


Oh, Raven

by Nerd_of_Camelot



Series: Sing [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ardyn Izunia Deserved Better, Ardyn Izunia Redemption, Ardyn Izunia is a Troll, BAMF Noctis Lucis Caelum, BAMF Prompto Argentum, Bahamut (Final Fantasy XV) Sucks, Bonding achieved through Suffering, Except Luna, False Identity, Gen, Hiding in Plain Sight, Human Experimentation, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret is a Good Friend, M/M, Noctis Knows(tm) When Bad Things Happen, Premonitions, Regis Lucis Caelum is a Bad Person but for Good Reasons, Regis and his people kinda suck, Running Away, Secrets, Sharing Everything, Sixth Sense, Slow Burn, Sort Of, Tags Are Hard, Unethical Experimentation, Verstael Besithia Redemption, a lot of this stuff is only vaguely alluded to here, because luna is a darling, everyone inhabits a moral grey area, he can just Tell, i cant believe thats a new tag, i promise there will eventually be action lol, it'll actually happen later, no beta we die like men, nobody in this fic is purely good or bad, oops the clarus/regis isn't minor anymore, petition to make me stop hurting prompto, some of this stuff comes out of nowhere while I'm writing tbh, this whole thing is a first draft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-02-18 22:24:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 61,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22000819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerd_of_Camelot/pseuds/Nerd_of_Camelot
Summary: Noctis, most people in the Citadel knew, had a particular sense for when things were going to go wrong, or already had.When Noctis wakes one morning with a bad feeling worse than any he's had before, he has no idea that it's going to change his life (hisdestiny) forever.
Relationships: Clarus Amicitia/Regis Lucis Caelum, Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum, Verstael Besithia/Ardyn Izunia
Series: Sing [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797865
Comments: 66
Kudos: 301





	1. Premonitions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please bear with me, I'm trying to hit 100K total this year on AO3 and this idea wouldn't leave until I wrote it lmao
> 
> (first 5 chapters written in like a day and a half)

Noctis, most people in the Citadel knew, had a particular sense for when things were going to go wrong, or already had.

The young prince had always had this strange ability―as even just a wee newborn he’d began fussing and crying incessantly when he sensed something going wrong. He’d known before anyone else when the Queen finally succumbed to her weakness. He’d known before anyone else when an Imperial spy had gotten into the Citadel. And on and on over the years until everyone stopped questioning that he didn’t need to be told when something went wrong, because he already  _ knew. _ Even if he didn’t know  _ specifically _ what was wrong, he still  _ knew. _

And, by the age of seven, he’d picked up on it as well. He knew what that bad feeling was, what that rolling in his gut and the raising of the hairs on the back of his neck meant.

By sixteen, he’d managed to figure out the little pieces that made things different. The worse an event was, the sicker and more anxious and uncomfortable he felt, and the more his hairs stood on end. Sometimes, if he concentrated, he could even figure out what was actually wrong―get a picture of it in his head.

So when he awoke one day a few months shy of his seventeenth birthday with all of his hair on end and had to immediately bolt to his bathroom to vomit, he knew something was seriously wrong. Something of a magnitude he’d never felt before. Even the Imperial spy and the destruction she’d wrought hadn’t felt this serious. This unsettling.

Heaving, wiping his mouth, he tried to focus.

But all he saw were needles.

So many needles.

And so much blood.

He threw up again.

He called Ignis, of course, as soon as he felt well enough to do so, and the man was in his room in record time, desperate to help him figure out what was wrong.

They sat in the bathroom next to the toilet so he could throw up again if he needed to.

He described what he saw to the best of his abilities and Ignis looked troubled, but didn’t explain anything. He just nodded and told Noctis he’d better rest.

Noctis felt the separate, less intense tingle of sickness that that caused him. Something was wrong with Ignis, too. Ignis knew something and things were about to go south.

And he wasn’t telling him what it was.

He tried not to let the confused betrayal show on his gaunt face as Ignis patted his back and left.

He called Gladio after that, but he didn’t talk to him about the bad feeling very much. He just told him he didn’t think he could leave his room without throwing up, so could he please just watch the hall for him? And Gladio agreed, and Noctis thought it was best to leave it at that. If Ignis hadn’t told him anything, there was little chance that Gladio was going to tell him.

He wouldn’t want to chance telling him something Ignis didn’t want him to know and having the bespectacled man kick off in his ass about it.

The feeling didn’t fade over the next couple of hours so much as Noctis managed to acclimate to it and overcome the nausea enough to move around. He was a prince, after all―what kind of ruler would he be if he couldn’t get used to a situation quickly? He needed to be able to adjust himself quickly. And he thought he did a pretty damn good job, if he did say so himself.

Now, he only needed to speak to his father about this bad feeling. He deserved to be informed, and if Ignis hadn’t already told him it was Noctis’ responsibility. And given Ignis’ reaction, he didn’t think Ignis had spoken to  _ anyone _ about it unless he had to. And Noctis didn’t like that, but he’d get over it.

Emerging from his room, he immediately met Gladio, who gave him a quick once-over.

“You look like shit.” He informed him, plainly, before stepping back a little to give him room. “You headin’ somewhere, your Majesty?”

“I need to tell my father about this… Feeling. He has a right to know.” Noctis explained, and Gladio looked unsettled.

“One of your infamous feelings has you lookin’ like  _ that?” _

Noctis just gave him a suffering look, and Gladio was blessedly very quiet for the walk to the throne room, elevator ride included. And if Noctis had to cling to the hand rails to keep from vomiting all over the carpeted bottom of the tiny metal box, Gladio didn’t mention it.

He just placed a hand on Noctis’ shoulder when they exited and made sure he was steady before resuming his position protecting Noctis’ back.

The nausea didn’t keep Noctis from keeping his sword just a wrist-flick away, of course. No matter how much he wanted to puke he wasn’t putting himself in that kind of danger. It wasn’t worth it and he could still fight, regardless. He might just have to throw up on somebody. Big whoop.

The glaives guarding the front door didn’t really even bat an eye at their sickly looking prince striding purposely forward, tailed by his Shield. They just opened the doors for the pair and kept their eyes forward, as expected. If they weren’t terribly new, they knew as well as anyone else that Noctis going to see his father while looking like he might throw up at any second was nobody’s business but the Crown’s until the Crown  _ made _ it their business. They wouldn’t interfere or speak. Even if the King was in a meeting of some kind, they had to let Noctis through―anything he had to tell the King was more important, and might very well effect the outcome of the meeting he was having.

The King, this time, was not in any prior conversation or meeting. He was merely sitting, waiting, and though he looked surprised to see Noctis he didn’t ask what he was doing until he’d come to a stop at the bottom of the stairs up to the throne. Usually Noctis would head up there, but if he continued he  _ might _ vomit on his father’s shoes, and nobody needed that.

“Speak,” His father said after he’d been standing there a moment, but it was not the annoyed bark he would give anyone else. It was calm―he could tell Noctis needed the moment he’d given him.

Noctis appreciated it.

“Something is wrong,” The prince said, “Though you no doubt gathered that from the fact that I’m here unannounced.” When the King nodded, he continued, “This is worse than anything I’ve ever felt before. When I try to understand what is happening, I see only needles and blood.”

His father’s face flashed with that same troubled look Ignis’ had, and he frowned, nodding. “I see. And this is causing you significant distress, clearly.”

“Yes, your Majesty.” He said wearily, “I wish there was more I could tell you, but without being able to see more…”

Another nod, and his father worriedly stroked at his scruff. “I will have someone look into it,” He promised, “We’ll search Lucis’ labs and hospitals―needles and blood implies one or the other.”

Somewhat relieved, Noctis bowed to the best of his ability, “Thank you, your Majesty.”

“Thank you for bringing it to my attention, Noctis.”

A wave of his hand and Noctis knew he was dismissed.

He turned around and began his long walk back to his room. He likely had appointments today, things he was meant to be doing, but he wouldn’t be getting anything done until this feeling subsided. He would have to call Ignis and have him reschedule it all until he was fit to perform the associated duties. Trying to do any of it now would only look worse if he fucked up than if he did it later and did it well.

The troubled look that had marred Ignis’ face and his father’s was mirrored on Gladio’s and Noctis felt yet another separate twinge of anxiety and nausea hit him. Something was wrong and they  _ knew _ about it. They knew what was wrong and they  _ weren’t telling him. _

But maybe there was a reason.

He’d just have to trust that there was.

One more twinge hit him once he was safely returned to his room and his bed, and it took him a moment to realize that Prompto had yet to text him today. No sunny ‘morning!’ text from the chocobo-headed photographer was as much an indicator of something being wrong as any of Noctis’ bad feelings, and all the more anxiety-inducing. Prompto was always awake by now, whether by choice or force, and he  _ always _ messaged Noctis when he woke up, especially if Noctis had reached out to him first.

But it was a half-hour past when Prompto’s  _ latest _ messages came most days and there was nothing in reply to the brief good morning message Noctis had sent him in the midst of being horribly nauseous after Ignis left. Nothing at all. The blond hadn’t even read the text, or, if he had, he hadn’t  _ opened _ it. He’d only read the notification.

Noctis’ stomach twisted, and it took a herculean effort on his part to keep whatever was left in his stomach in there.

He sent another text, and then messaged Gladio to ask if he could ask someone to bring up some cola to try and settle his stomach. Gladio responded in the affirmative and Noctis settled down to wait and tried not to think too much about the fact that Prompto didn’t open his second message either.


	2. Concerns

When it was well-past one in the afternoon and Prompto still hadn’t messaged back, Noctis finally messaged Ignis to ask if he’d seen or heard from the blond.

Ignis told him he hadn’t, and said that he’d have someone do a home-check (or do one himself) just to keep Noctis from feeling worse. He said something about how Noctis having more worry on his plate when he was still clearly suffering from whatever was going wrong wasn’t something he was willing to allow if he could prevent it.

Noctis thanked him and settled in to wait, sipping slowly at the cola Gladio had made sure he’d gotten.

He could be patient. He was a _prince_ and he was not a _spoiled_ prince so he could damn well _wait_ for word to get back to him.

… But he couldn’t help being impatient. This was his _best friend,_ and while Prompto may very well be fully capable of protecting himself, Noctis couldn’t help worrying. Prompto, unlike Gladio and Ignis, was a _civilian,_ and he was only allowed to be counted among Noctis’ guards and trusted people on a technicality from his father to allow him someone _normal_ to hang around with. He thought it would benefit him to have someone his age and not formally trained to hang out with and he’d allowed Noctis to continue hanging around the young commoner even after finding out about their meeting and playing in secret. He’d been angry that Noctis would forego his protection for the sake of _playing,_ but had understood, to some extent, why Noctis might prefer company over protection.

So they’d given Prompto access to Noctis’ Armiger when he got control of it and let him stick around as an unofficial Crownsguard while one of the glaives gave him what had to be the world’s shortest training on firearms. Apparently (and Noctis could attest to this), Prompto was something of a firearms prodigy. His aim was unmatched even among the highest trained guards at the Citadel.

It was really something.

So, of course, Noctis knew that Prompto could take care of himself.

But he was always going to worry, anyway. Prompto was capable but he was still a civilian and Noctis was hard-pressed to assume he’d be able to keep himself safe to the same extent that well-trained glaives and Crownsguard could, which was fair and he knew Prompto appreciated him not expecting much of him.

It took an hour for Ignis to reply to him in reference to the Prompto situation, and Noctis felt his stomach drop into his shoes.

_Iggy: It appears that Prompto is not home. His parents have not seen him but they said he had been feeling under the weather. I am looking for him now after asking them some questions. Do you have any idea where he might have gone?_

Some horrible, terrible part of his brain flashed to the image of blood and needles, and he didn’t think all of the cola in the world could have stopped his stomach from rolling dangerously. He clamped a hand over his mouth, took a deep breath, and replied one-handed.

_Noct: If he’s not at home he’s usually at the Citadel or hanging around the Blue Moon Plaza, but either way he’d be answering his phone._

_Iggy: I’ll check. Are there any stores specifically he may hang around?_

_Noct: He likes to hang around Frostpixel Games and the camera store next door._

Iggy told him he’d be in touch, and Noctis did his best to calm down. Freaking out now wouldn’t help anybody. It wouldn’t help anybody at all. He had to try and stay calm.

Taking another deep breath and pressing his fist tightly to his mouth, he waited a very long moment before he did anything else. The nausea rolling in his gut didn’t settle, so he took a slow sip of the cola. Then he slowly got up and began, against his better judgement, to pace. He thought better when he was moving, and even if he felt like crap he couldn’t stand sitting still for so long. He hated being sick.

His stomach still didn’t settle, and though it irritated him there wasn’t anything that he could do.

Where could Prompto be?

As sickening as the thought was, he couldn’t help drawing the connection between Prompto not messaging him and the horrible feeling and mental image of needles and blood. He knew Prompto hated needles. He knew Prompto would message him even if he felt like shit, even if it was just to tell him he felt like crap and wouldn’t be talking much. There had to be something serious going on if Prompto hadn’t messaged him or even _read_ his messages, because that was just uncharacteristic.

And it couldn’t be a coincidence that Prompto had been MIA all day on a day that Noctis had started with the worst bad feeling he’d felt, to his memory. That would be entirely too convenient.

His phone going off on the bed almost made him jump right out of his skin. He stumbled back to it, suddenly off-balance from the abrupt rise in his heart rate, and frantically picked up the device. He hoped, almost foolishly, for good news. He just wanted good news. He wanted to know that Prompto was okay.

It was not good news―Ignis hadn’t found him anywhere in the Plaza, or anywhere between his home and the Plaza.

Noctis only barely made it to the trash can before he lost the liquid he’d been consuming for the past couple hours.

It took him a few minutes to work up the courage to text the man back and tell him not to waste too much time looking for Prompto, that he was probably fine and he’d turn up soon. The delay, of course, let Ignis see right through the attempt, and he commented on it but didn’t question Noctis’ order to not dillydally. He remarked he was on his way back to the Citadel to regroup with some of the other Crownsguard and work on the other current issue, and Noctis left it at that.

He messaged Gladio to ask him to have someone bring up something small to eat so he wouldn’t keep throwing up soda.

He also made sure to express that he regretted having to ask so much of him today, but Gladio largely brushed him off and promised to have some food brought up. In the end the prince just said thank you, and by the time Gladio popped the door open to let the worker who’d brought food in, Noctis had laid back down.

He thanked both of them again, and the worker looked troubled to see him looking so faint―or maybe him thanking them still freaked them out. Either way, they seemed worried as they left, and if the meaningful look Gladio gave them was any indication, he was just as troubled as they were.

* * *

“Gladiolus.” 

His eyes snapped immediately to his approaching father from their prior survey of the hall. “Sir?”

“How is the prince?”

“Still sick.” He sighed. “He was white as a sheet when I had someone bring him some food. Still tried to be polite, though…”

Clarus nodded, looking just as troubled as he felt.

“Do you think…”

“He doesn’t know.” Gladio assured him, “Not for sure. He’s only got vague images and thinking about it too much apparently makes him puke. I think he’s more worried about Prom…”

He missed the way that Clarus’ eyes strafed away, guilty, but he was far too worried about his prince to pay the look much mind.

“I am sure he will turn up.” Clarus said, and Gladio nodded along, “You taught him self-defense, did you not?”

“Of course I did,” Gladio scoffed. “His Majesty wouldn’t have let him hang around Noct so much if I hadn’t.”

That got Clarus to laugh, and both of them were quiet a moment. Gladio listened closely to see if Noctis had gotten back up. There was nothing but the sound of air. He wasn’t sure if that was more troubling than hearing him pace or not. He knew the brat prince hated sitting still for too long, so the fact that he hadn’t heard any rustling or footsteps bothered him immensely.

“Well,” Clarus said after a while, tone somewhat joking, “We’ll have to see if Prince Noctis feels better by tonight, won’t we? Who knows how long he might have you sitting out here otherwise.”

Gladio laughed, and Clarus left.

The speed of his retreat went unnoticed by the prince’s Shield.


	3. Prompto

A ruckus from outside his room woke Noctis from an impromptu nap some time later in the afternoon, and though he was too dizzy to be doing so he swung himself out of bed and managed to stumble to his couch before his vision went black and he lost full control of his legs. He slumped against the back of the couch and waited for it to clear.

“Gladio?” He called, vision still spotty, “What’s going on?”

The door swung open and in came Gladio and―

“Prom?” Noctis asked, not sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“You look like crap,” Was Prom’s reply, face concerned and body trembling slightly.

“So do you,” The prince managed to reply after a moment, taking in the shaking, the dark circles, the way he shied slightly away from Gladio. “What happened? Are you okay?  _ Where were you?” _

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Prompto admitted, meekly, and Noctis saw Gladio give him a half-concerned, half-angry look.

“Okay, don’t talk,” Noctis said, still having trouble seeing or controlling his legs, still nauseous and not feeling better at all than he had since before his nap, “Just sit down and, like…”

He swayed dangerously and had to hold very tightly to the couch keep from just falling over and busting his head open on the floor.

Gladio was at his side in a second, steadying him and gruffly instructing him to breathe and  _ sit down you idiot. _ Noctis didn’t argue, and he let Gladio lead him around the couch to sit him down. He collapsed into the cushions and closed his eyes for a long moment. When he managed to open them again, both Gladio and Prompto looked concerned.

“It still hasn’t let up, huh?” Gladio asked, brows furrowed.

“What hasn’t let up?” Prompto asked, bewildered and, clearly, only more worried. “Are you sick?”

“No, it hasn’t.” Noctis said, somewhat miserable, “And I guess? If having such a horribly bad feeling that I can barely think without getting nauseous counts as being sick.”

Gladio shook his head, that gruff protectiveness overtaking him. He more or less bullied Prompto into sitting down, as well, and then said something about getting them both something to eat, because if he had to watch Prompto shiver for much longer he was going to scream. That got a laugh out of Noctis and a sheepish smile out of Prompto.

Gladio promptly left the room, and Noctis knew he was waiting just outside while he contacted someone about food. Neither he nor Prompto spoke for a while, and Noctis’ vision slowly cleared up as he waited. His control of his legs returned gradually, as well, and he was able to draw them up onto the couch with him so he could curl in on himself. He’d kind of hoped Prompto showing up would make the bad feeling go away, but it was still just as bad. Still just as intense.

Probably because Prompto didn’t want to talk about what had happened. It was obviously bad. He was paler than usual, freckles standing out in stark contrast to paper-white skin. There were dark bruises beneath his eyes. He had his arms drawn in, wrapped around his waist while he sat and shook minutely. Whether he was tired, low on sugar, cold, or all three was anyone’s guess.

Regardless, Noctis could tell he’d been through something  _ bad. _

He  _ knew _ Prompto.

But he wouldn’t probe, and he knew Prompto would appreciate that.

“So… Bad feeling, huh?” Prompto finally asked, several minutes into their silence.

“Worst one I’ve ever had.” Noctis replied, about as unperturbed as he could be given the situation. “I’ve thrown up at least three times.”

Prompto winced and curled in on himself a bit more. “That sucks, man. Any clue what it’s about?”

“All I can see is needles and blood.” Noctis told him, and was sure that he didn’t imagine the way Prompto immediately drew in on himself  _ further. _

“Nasty,” Prompto said, and Noctis decided maybe he shouldn’t mention his reaction.

“I know, right?” Noctis said, and felt himself shudder a little. “Dad’s having people check every lab and hospital in the city… Feels like an empty promise. He obviously knew something he wasn’t telling me.”

“Well, you know how it is.” Prompto said, off-handed as could be, “If you’re not the King or his inner circle, any information you get is just what he wants you to get.”

Noctis nodded along, and Prompto seemed to relax a little.

Uncharacteristically, he didn’t really talk much more that night. Not until Gladio asked if he wanted to go home and he gave the firmest, most terrified  _ no _ that Noctis had ever heard.

Gladio didn’t press the matter, just raised his hands in surrender and told them both he was going to sleep on the couch for the night, since Noctis obviously still needed him and Prompto wasn’t in any shape to be left as his sole protector.

“Okay,” Noctis shrugged, “That works for me. You know it’s a pullout, right?” Then, glancing at Prom, “It’s okay with you, though, right?”

Prom stared at him like a deer in the headlights for a long moment, then, slowly, hesitantly, “I don’t mind.” His cheeks tinged a bit and he looked away, “I feel better with you and Gladio around, anyway.”

Already softened by the fact that he felt like shit and moreso by  _ Prompto _ feeling like shit, Noctis immediately said, “You know what, then, Prom? Stay as long as you want.”

Gladio snorted, and Prompto gave a sheepish laugh. But it was enough for Noctis that Prompto was here at all, after worrying him all day. He didn’t care if anyone cared about Prompto staying, didn’t care if he seemed spoiled secreting two of his three friends away in his quarters for who-knew-how long. And, boy, did he like the sound of the two of them being amused.

It helped him feel just a little less unsettled.

Just a little bit.

“Do I have to sleep in the chair?” Prompto asked after a moment, and the quirk of his lips told Noctis that he was mostly joking.

He knew the answer, so Noctis just gave him a fondly exasperated look and listened to him descend into chuckles. It wasn’t his usual full-bellied laughter, but it would do.

It would do.


	4. Bloody Needles

-23 hours ago...-

-Beneath Citadel…-

“Just hold still, this won’t take long,” The scientist promised him, and he knew from experience that that was true.

If he held still, this would be over quickly, and he wouldn’t have to deal with this very long. He could go home, go to bed, and be up in time to greet Noctis in the morning without anything seeming out of place. No one had to realize that anything was wrong, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t call Ignis or something if something he didn’t like happened. Ignis would sort it out.

It was just important that Gladio and Noctis not find out the truth of what was happening, you know? They’d get mad.

But regardless, Prompto held still, and the scientist withdrew some blood, as usual.

Nothing out of the ordinary, and Prompto didn’t even really feel too violated this time, even if he still couldn’t bear to have his eyes open during any of the events that took place in the lab. He  _ hated _ needles. Wasn’t big on blood, either, and they needed a lot of his.

He didn’t know why―they never bothered to tell him  _ that. _

He just had to hope that it was helping the others down here.

After all, there were so many of them, and so much of his blood had been taken since he was allowed to befriend Noctis officially and begin visiting him at the Citadel. Surely it had to be for a good cause? The King wouldn’t do it without a good reason, would he?

He had doubts, but he had to hope.

* * *

-Present…-

-Prince Noctis’ Room…-

Watching an unsteady Noctis more or less limp his way back to bed, Prompto knew something big had to be happening. Was something going wrong in the lab? Had one of the ones down there died? Had  _ several _ of them died? Was the program going wrong? Did this have something to do with how long he’d been down there this time?

He wasn’t sure, and it was starting to freak him out.

He could only imagine how Noct must feel right now. He must be terrified out of his wits on top of being nauseated and shaky.

He followed him to the bed and crawled in on the other side, wrapping himself up gladly in the soft blankets and watching as Noctis moved slowly to settle himself into a comfortable position. Hopefully, by morning, this had resolved and Noctis would feel better. He hated seeing him like this. He’d never known a bad feeling to go on longer than a couple of hours and all the ones he’d witnessed had been significantly less intense.

“You two ready for the light to go off?” Gladio’s gruff voice asked after a moment.

“I’m good,” Prompto affirmed.

Noctis just gave a noncommittal hum and buried his face into his pillows. He’d be fine whether the light was off or not, of course. It wouldn’t matter as soon as he was comfortable enough to pass out.

The light went out and Prompto felt suddenly nervous. Gladio moved slowly through the darkness back to the prepared pullout couch, and some of Prompto’s anxiety vanished when he heard him settle in. Gladio wasn’t a terribly deep sleeper when he felt he needed to keep an eye on Noctis (like right now), so if anything happened Gladio would be the first to know. He trusted Gladio.

He forced himself to close his eyes and breathe slowly.

Eventually, he managed to fall asleep, and boy did it feel well deserved after the past day or so of his life. Sleeping with Noctis and Gladio around also made it… Better. He didn’t dream, didn’t have any nightmares. He just sort of laid there and felt and thought and saw nothing for several hours.

* * *

Noctis had to say he was very sorely disappointed when he woke for the second day in a row with the same bad feeling and world-tipping nausea. He’d kind of hoped that whatever was causing it would have been resolved by now, but it hadn’t. It hadn’t at all.

He rolled quickly out of bed, as quiet as he could be, and picked his way across the room to the bathroom. He didn’t want to wake either of his friends, but he  _ had _ to get in there. He’d rather be able to quickly remove the smell of vomit by flushing it rather than having to get  _ another _ trash bag for his trash can because he’d thrown up in it.

Midway through the body-shaking heaves, he found Gladio at his back and rubbing his shoulders. The man didn’t say anything until he’d stopped coughing, and even then he only asked if he needed any help.

Embarrassed and mildly ashamed, Noctis asked if he could help him stand up, because he didn’t think his legs could hold him right now.

Of course Gladio complied, and he waited patiently while Noctis flushed the toilet and then rinsed his mouth out. And then, without much warning, he swept Noctis up into his arms. There was little enough jostling to not kick Noctis’ stomach back into the fuss that had woken him, and the walk back to bed was smooth enough that it remained as calm as it was going to get.

“Maybe you should see a doc about this, Noct.” Gladio said as he more or less tucked him back into bed.

“Not much they can do,” Noctis pointed out, “I don’t think all the Pepto and ‘hm, you should rest’ in the world is going to stop this until the issue is sorted out.”

Gladio nodded, though he looked troubled. “Good point.”

Noct gave him the most reassuring smile that he could. Gladio returned it weakly.

Both of them decided to try and go back to sleep.

While Gladio headed back to the pullout bed, Noctis slowly turned over and found himself looking at a very groggy Prompto, who seemed to be trying to blink at him through the darkness. Not thinking too much about it, he scooted closer and tucked himself up against his friend, and Prompto hummed pleasantly. He didn’t complain at all―in fact, he seemed to pull himself closer as well.

“Go back to sleep, Prom.” Noctis said, and Prompto only hummed again.

That his breathing steadied immediately and he didn’t reply otherwise told Noctis he’d already fallen back asleep. He smiled a little and, face in Prompto’s neck, tried to do the same. Being tired on top of already feeling like crap from this weird premonition wasn’t something he wanted to deal with, thanks.

But when he finally fell asleep, all he dreamed of was blood and needles. There was an occasional flash of something else―a table? A clipboard, for sure. A phone. Bags of blood at bedsides, the sound of coughing.

It was unpleasant, but overall not the worst dream he’d ever had.

He just wished he could make sense of it.

When he woke again, pressing his face firmly into Prompto’s neck kept him at least mostly calm and he didn’t feel the immediate urge to throw up, but he still felt like crap. Prompto only hummed and rubbed his back. It was anyone’s guess if the blonde was actually awake or if he was just responding to Noctis’ distress without actually being aware of it.

He stayed tucked up there in Prompto’s arms until the blonde finally roused completely and pulled away to stretch.

* * *

Prompto remained in his room with him for the next two days.

His father, the Crownsguard, even the  _ glaives, _ were not happy about it. They wouldn’t tell him why, they only sent periodic demands (veiled as polite requests) for Prompto to leave the prince’s chambers. Noctis turned down each of them as politely as he could given his current condition and the mounting stress that the ‘requests’ caused him. Considering Prompto’s current condition as well and the fact that he jumped at any mention of needles, Noctis wasn’t sure he wanted anybody else around his friend anyway.

“I do not understand why you insist upon keeping him in your room with you.” Regis said, frustrated, on the first of those days, and a still sickened Noctis leaned against one of the pillars near his room. The King had insisted they not speak with Prompto present. “It’s frankly  _ silly, _ Noctis. You cannot keep him from his home forever.”

“I’m not keeping him from his home,” Noctis just barely managed not to groan, “I’m keep him from getting hurt.”

Regis’ eyes flashed at that. He looked troubled. Worried.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean…” Noctis paused to take a deep breath before continuing, in a more diplomatic tone, “That I still have the same bad feeling I’ve had since the other day, and when he came to my rooms he looked like he’d been through Hell. I don’t want him out of my sight until I’m sure whatever bad thing is going to happen is over and done with. He’s my best friend, your Majesty. I’d prefer nothing happen to him and I feel he’s safest with me and Gladio.”

Regis seemed a little less angry at this admission, but he nevertheless continued to look exasperated. And not fondly, either. Noctis knew this was a genuine exasperation, a genuine frustration. He did not understand why his father was so uptight about this, nor did he particularly care at the moment. If anything it was just further reason to keep Prompto in his room with him.

“Concerning Gladiolus.” Regis said, “You can’t really intend to keep  _ him _ away from home until you feel better.”

“I only asked him to be there the first day,” Noctis sighed in reply, “He refuses to go home until he knows I can take care of myself again without throwing up or fainting.”

“You could order him home.” Regis pointed out.

“I could.” Noctis agreed, “But sending away my Shield when he’s being stubbornly loyal and I’m in no position to protect myself doesn’t sound wise.”

Regis frowned, but nodded his official allowance of this tomfoolery.

Noctis thanked him and stumbled back to his room, where Gladio met him to help him make it to the couch and sit down. He couldn’t do much else without getting dizzy. It didn’t help that he could barely keep anything down long enough to absorb any nutrients. He was pretty sure that if this kept up he’d end up  _ seriously _ sick. Not just constantly nauseated.

He continued sipping at his cola and Prompto, who seemed to be in a much better mood than he had been the day before, spent most of his time entertaining him throughout the day while Gladio stood vigil outside the room. When Noctis felt up to it, they played King’s Knight for a while on their phones, or worked on a co-op game they’d been trying to tackle on Noctis’ old gaming console for months prior. It kept him busy and he was seriously starting to get a little more used to the nausea by the time they all settled back into bed. Gladio, again, took the couch, even when Prompto teasingly suggested that he hop into bed with them.

Unabashed, Gladio replied that he’d never get up in time to save either of them from anything if he ended up trapped in their scrawny little arms.

Snickering, they let the matter drop without any further discussion, and Gladio joined them to chuckle after he had the light off and had climbed into the pullout bed.

The second day, while Regis had kindly stepped off and decided Noctis and Prompto would part when they were good and ready, it seemed that everyone  _ else _ hadn’t gotten the memo, and Noctis had to continue declining “requests” for Prompto to be released into the custody of various other people.

Eventually it became obvious that the requests stressed him out and made his nausea worse, so Gladio began steadfastly ignoring anyone who wasn’t a direct superior of his until they went away, and direct superiors were not allowed to speak to Noctis without a very good reason. Noctis appreciated it immensely. It made the second day much more bearable when, after lunch, he only had to speak to Cor, and Cor wasn’t at all concerned with the Prompto issue. He just wanted to discuss if any other issues had caught Noctis’ special little sixth sense, and they briefly discussed some less intense issues. Cor, of course, took all of Noctis’ concerns completely seriously. The prince had never led him wrong before and both of them enjoyed a rare kind of trust between each other as a result.

Cor didn’t keep him for very long, and after assuring that there were no sure threats at the moment, he excused himself and Noctis was able to return to his gaming with Prompto. This continued on into the afternoon, and Noctis was at a point he could completely ignore his nausea. Just as long as he didn’t jostle himself too much, he was fine, and sitting on the couch playing games with Prompto was thankfully not a physical labor-intensive pastime.

But the longer they played, the more Prompto seemed to be getting somewhat antsy.

Considering Noctis was pretty antsy already, himself, Prompto seeming bothered was an issue. If they were both bothered, they’d end up having a mutual freakout sooner rather than later. The only upside Noctis could see with Prompto’s growing discomfort was he might actually eventually start talking about what was bothering him. Prompto didn’t do well with not complaining about his problems if he thought he had a willing ear, and seeing as Noctis had been more content to listen than to speak for the last couple days…

He just hoped it wasn’t as bad as he kept thinking that it was.

Blood and needles flashed through his head again.


	5. Admission

After Gladio had food brought up and Noctis managed to choke down a portion, he and Prompto lapsed into silence.

Fifteen minutes passed in that same silence.

Noctis didn’t question it very much, because Prompto was troubled and it was only even more obvious now than it had been earlier this afternoon. He’d eventually start talking―he always did. He couldn’t stand to keep secrets and he almost always felt the need to vent when he thought someone might actually listen and maybe even empathize with him. Which was healthy. Maybe if Noctis did the same he might actually process his own issues.

But nah, not the point.

Point was, he knew Prompto, and he knew he couldn’t go very much longer without telling him what was wrong. And, as selfish as it maybe was, he was relieved that Prompto would soon absolve him of some of his paranoia. He felt like a big secret was being kept from him by everyone around him, especially those closest to him. All of them had reacted with a wariness, a  _ knowing fear, _ when he’d mentioned what his bad feeling was about this time, and had proceeded to not tell him anything. He hated having secrets kept from him―he was the Crown Prince, the heir apparent to the throne! He had a right to know, if it was important, right?

Despite not questioning the silence, those fifteen minutes were the longest fifteen minutes of his entire life… The first fifteen minutes of waiting for Prompto to reply to his texts the other day notwithstanding.

The silence plunged him easily into thought, and his thoughts (as seemed usual the past few days) immediately spiralled back to the bad feeling consuming his every waking moment. The sooner it was over with, the better. He hated feeling like this and he got the feeling that even if his Shield was continuing to be stubbornly loyal as usual, he probably wasn’t going to be terribly happy about sticking around very much longer.

And that was assuming Prompto didn’t get sick of being stuck in one room before then and just straight up leave.

He’d really prefer if neither of them got sick of being here before things were resolved, but with the way things were going…

Still, it wasn’t like he really had any control of when it resolved. Only his dad could really do anything about it, and he obviously didn’t plan to. There were too many glaives in the Citadel for him to be looking through all the hospitals and labs like he said he was.

Hopefully it’d resolve on its own―and soon, at that.

The more time they all had to spend worrying about it, and the more time that Noctis had to ignore his duties and his training in order to be sick like this, the less they actually got done in the Kingdom. He was supposed to be negotiating trade with some of the towns outside the wall, for fuck’s sake. If he couldn’t do that, it wouldn’t get done. Ignis could only arrange so much in his name before they started wanting to speak to him in person or at least call him.

Had he mentioned how much he absolutely hated having to sit still?

If he could get up to pace, he would, but he’d lose his balance faster than he could blink and the  _ last _ thing any of them needed right now was him falling and hitting his head on something.

He thanked whatever god was currently looking out for him when Prompto shifted and sort of anxiously cleared his throat.

Not because Prompto seemed unsettled (still), but because he clearly intended to break the silence and maybe actually explain to him some of whatever the hell was going on. Even if what was up with Prom had absolutely nothing to do with the thing that was seriously wrong, it would nevertheless clear up some of his lingering anxieties.

Having so much to worry about for the last few days was borderline torture.

“Hey, Noct?” Prompto piped up meekly, and Noctis gave another thankful internal sigh.

“Yeah?”

Noctis glanced at him, and Prompto sent an uneasy look at the door, not meeting his eyes. There was another brief silence, and in that silence Noctis heard Gladio’s voice.

Seemingly bolstered by that, Prompto sighed and drew in on himself, but began to speak again, “About what happened the other day…”

“You wanna talk about it?”

Prompto just nodded.

He didn’t say anything else yet, but that was fine. Noctis could wait. It wasn’t deathly urgent or anything―probably, at least. He hoped.

“I, uh.” Prompto uttered, “I was  _ here _ that day.”

He stopped to lick his lips, and Noctis tried to process that information. Prompto had been  _ here? _ At the Citadel?

“There’s this… This  _ lab _ I guess? Down in the lower parts. Not open to most of the people here. Your dad asked me to be there.”

Mouth dry, Noctis nodded to indicate that Prompto should keep going. Best to just get it all out now and worry about processing it afterwards.

“I… It was one of the conditions for me being allowed to be an honorary part of your retinue.” Prompto squeezed himself tighter, swallowing, “I have to go to the lab, or clinic, or whatever the hell it is, once or twice a week. Usually at night, or while you’re busy, so that it doesn’t interrupt me hanging out with you.” A steadying breath, “I think I know why you keep seeing bloody needles, Noct. Every time I go down there they draw blood to give it to other people down there. I never knew what for. I didn’t really ask, or watch. I didn’t think I was  _ allowed _ to ask. Above my clearance level, you know? Like, I’m just there to give blood. But the other day, I…”

Shaking, Prompto trailed off and held himself for a moment, silent.

Gladio’s voice, outside, cut off, and Prompto closed his eyes.

When Gladio’s voice resumed, Prompto breathed in and began speaking again as well.

“I went there after you were supposed to be in bed, and it was the same song and dance as usual at first. Just a prod and some blood and assurances that it wouldn’t take very long. I just wanted to get it over with so I could go home, like every other time. You know I hate needles. But then there was this commotion, over in another part of the lab, where they keep the other people. I couldn’t help looking to see what… What was happening.

“They had this glaive, like― He was  _ strapped down,  _ Noct. Like  _ bound _ to the table. And he was just  _ thrashing _ and  _ yelling _ at the top of his lungs and telling them to just kill him already and I was fucking― I was horrified, Noct! Who wouldn’t be? But then one of the scientists said something about ‘it’ not working like it was supposed to, and then the  _ scientists _ started yelling. It was a clusterfuck and it was  _ so fucking loud _ but I hadn’t been dismissed yet so I didn’t even try to leave. I wasn’t― I was scared but I was  _ not _ going to get on your dad’s bad side by skipping out, you know?

“But then one of the scientist, I don’t know which one, they say something about needing a larger sample, that maybe they’ve been watering it down too much and need to use more of my blood with the same amount of whatever other compound they’d been mixing into it. I don’t know what it was. It had a werid fuckin’ name is all I know and then they were grabbing me and telling me not to move or I’d ruin it by making them take more than was healthy for me and they― They strapped me down, Noct, and you  _ know _ what being bound does to me― and they just― they― I didn’t know I had that much blood  _ in _ me, Noct. They took  _ so much. _ And when they mixed it with that other shit and injected it into that glaive he―”

Prompto broke off with what sounded like a choked sob, and Noctis found himself across the small distance between them in half a second, pulling his terrified friend to him. Prompto clung to him like a lifeline. He was still processing, still wasn’t sure what he was being told, but he knew what that noise meant. He knew Prompto was crying. He was  _ terrified. _ And bit by bit the story he’d told so far clicked into place, started making sense in his head.

And as soon as things started making sense, he started understanding.

And when Noctis understood what he’d been told so far, he was  _ pissed. _

But there was more to this story, and as much as he  _ didn’t _ want to hear the rest of it, he knew he needed to listen. If he didn’t, he’d never know the whole truth because he doubted Prompto would ever want to talk about this again. He had to get the story now, when Prompto was willing to talk.

He took a deep breath, pushed all of his anger into the back seat, and pressed his face into Prompto’s hair while he rubbed his back.

Voice muffled, choked by sobs, the blond whispered, “He turned into a  _ daemon, _ Noct.”

Anger, pressed back, was overwhelmed and drowned out by horror and revulsion. A  _ daemon? _ In the  _ Citadel? _ What kind of sick shit was his dad  _ doing _ in that lab? And what had they done to Prompto’s blood and that  _ glaive _ to make a transformation like that possible in the first place?

Gods, and his dad called Niffleheim disgusting for their Magitek experiments…

“... There was so much blood, Noct. He destroyed so much of the equipment… And then they just― they just  _ killed _ him, Noct. Didn’t even try to save him. Just shot him int he head like― like a sick  _ dog. _ ”

The blond descended back into horrified sobbing, and Noctis could only pull him closer and try not to be visibly or noticeably angry. The shoulder and neck of his shirt became soaked and he did nothing to stop it. He just tried to comfort his friend while formulating something to do about this issue.

“After― after they got rid of him they… They were  _ happy, _ Noct. They  _ celebrated. _ And then they started discussing making more batches. Making more of the ‘serum’, just a little less strong. Dumbed down on my blood. But all the blood they had stored up from me was too old to use or got spilled all over the place during the rampage, so they― they had to take  _ more. _ And they  _ did. _ I was there all night and they just took and took until I was too weak to keep my eyes open. That’s why they keep requesting me, Noct. They need more of my blood and I― I don’t want any part in that. I don’t want any part in anything they’re doing.”

Noctis took a breath. Pulled Prompto closer. Kept his face in his hair.

“Prom,” He said, slowly, after a long moment to make sure he would sound calm and put-together, “Why didn’t you ever tell me before?”

“Your dad―” Prompto sniffled, “Your dad thought you’d be mad if you found out. I never understood why before…”

“Who else knew?” He probed gently.

“Most of the Crownsguard. Some of the glaives. Ignis took me home after every appointment. Gladio just knew they wanted me to pop in here and there.”

Ignis knew.

Ignis **_knew._**

**_Ignis_ ** knew.

He fucking knew, and he didn’t tell Noctis. He didn’t tell him that his best friend was being used for research purposes by his father and apparently every scientist in his employ. And why? Because he might get mad? Well what the hell did he think was going to happen when Noctis inevitably found out anyway? That he was just going to be  _ fine _ with it?

And to experiment on  _ glaives. _

Sure, the idiots had probably signed up for it, but to not stop when they started  _ begging… _ To leave them begging for  _ death _ and just keep experimenting…

It was  _ sick. _

He needed to fucking  _ do _ something about this, because this was a  _ problem,  _ and it was clearly going to  _ continue _ to be a problem if his bad feeling was any indication.

He may not have any authority over his father. He may not have any right to demand the experiments be stopped. He may not even have the right to assume he could  _ ask _ that they be stopped.

But he didn’t care.

He couldn’t have given less of a shit about authority, and the  _ right _ to stop this, if he’d  _ tried. _ This was sick, and he was  _ livid. _

“Prom,” He said, softly, slowly pulling away, “I’m going to talk to my dad.”

“Noct?” Prompto’s blue eyes were wide, red-rimmed.

He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, and Noctis knew he was worried that Noctis wasn’t going to handle this very well.

… Smart guy.

He knew Noctis just as well as Noctis knew him.

“This needs to be stopped,” Noctis told him, gently, “This is  _ wrong. _ He can’t do this to you. King or not, this is a fucking  _ war crime,  _ Prom. If the rest of the country knew, they’d riot.” Then, even more gently, “I’m just going to talk to him. I won’t do anything drastic if I don’t have to.”

Prompto stared at him for a long time, but then slowly nodded and released his deathgrip on Noctis’ shirt.

Giving him a small, reassuring smile, Noctis grabbed a fresh set of clothes and went to the bathroom to change into it. It was the first time he’d changed his clothes since this ordeal started, and he was feeling kinda nasty anyway. This was a well-timed event, he supposed. He had to look clean and presentable if he was going to try to diplomatically arrange the end of these experiments.

And he  _ was _ going to try to be diplomatic.

It was only a matter of whether or not his father was responsive to the diplomatic approach.

He breathed deeply, reigned his anger in again, and took only brief notice of the fact that his bad feeling, though it had not lessened, didn’t have  _ shit _ on how angry he was.

That didn’t bode well for his attempts at diplomacy, but  _ dammit _ he was going to try anyway.

He straightened himself out one final time and exited the bathroom to see Prompto trying to piece himself back together there on the couch. He was sniffling, wiping his face―Noct could only hope he’d be okay alone for a while. He hated to leave him here  _ alone, _ but he didn’t think Prompto would benefit much from Gladio being in here with him, and he was  _ not _ calling Ignis. He didn’t like Ignis right now.

He’d get over that eventually.

He’d have to, the man was meant to be his advisor. He probably had the country’s best interest in mind when he decided to honor the King’s decision not to tell the prince about what was happening in the lab the Citadel apparently secretly kept.

“Just sit tight, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can be.”

Prompto nodded, and wiped his face. He gave a weak thumbs up and swiftly swaddled himself up in a blanket to hide form whoever might be outside of the door. Gladio was still speaking, so either he was on the phone or he had someone with him. Either option would make sense. It had to get lonely out there during the day, after all.

Noctis strode right to the door, and when he swung it open he was not expecting Ignis to be standing guard with Gladio.

He forced an even breath, forced himself not to be outwardly startled, and watched the two of them break their concentration to look at him, both seeming somewhat bewildered.

“Afternoon, highness,” Ignis greeted, “I trust you’re feeling better?”

“Something like that,” Noct said, and the way that both Gladio and Ignis looked troubled at the response told him he’d come off as snippy without meaning to, “I’d love to stay and talk, but I have something I need to discuss with my father.”

“Would you like us to―”

“No, thank you.” He cut Ignis off before he could finish, “I think this something I need to discuss with him alone.” He stepped past them and turned to Gladio, “When I get back, you’re dismissed. You can go home. But for now, please stay here and do not let  _ anyone _ in.”

As if sensing that he was not in the mood to be questioned, Gladio merely nodded, and Noctis turned on his heel to leave without saying anything else. Gladio he felt bad about being short with. Ignis, though, he was still too angry at to be terribly bothered about being short with.

He strode purposefully through the Citadel―a man on a mission.

A 16 year old prince off to fight with his dad about violating basic human rights and probably about fifty different laws on scientific experimentation.

When he reached the throne room, it was not like the last time. He was walking tall, walking straight, and the glaives may have opened the door for him but they didn’t usually hop to it quite so quickly as they did this time. They gave him one look and immediately moved to open the doors. Usually he’d have at least given them an off-handed thank you, but he couldn’t afford to distract himself right now.

He strode right past them and into the room.

His father’s attention was on him instantly, as was that of every single glaive standing guard in the room.

“I believe there is something, father, that we need to talk about.” Noctis said, without being told to speak, without pausing at the bottom of the steps to be acknowledged, “And I would very much like if you would listen to me before saying anything.”

The glaives, out of the corner of his eyes, gave each other bewildered, concerned looks. His father merely stared at him as he walked right up to the platform he stood on―it seemed he’d caught him on his way down from the throne.

“It has come to my attention that you placed a…  _ Condition…  _ On Prompto’s appointment as an honorary member of my retinue that was not discussed with me.” He said, as diplomatically as he could, “And I have to admit, I’m concerned.”

“Who told you?” Was Regis’ first response.

“Don’t change the subject.” Noctis sighed, “It doesn’t matter who told me. I would have found out eventually anyway. You couldn’t keep it from me forever.” A wave of his hand, “But that’s not the point. What  _ concerns _ me is that even  _ he _ was not told what you intended for him, and if I’m not mistaken that’s an abuse of power.  _ Especially _ considering the results.”

And the look on King Regis’ face did not foretell a diplomatic end to this discussion.


	6. Tension Rising

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk about y'all reading but this feels kinda rushed (narratively) so far to me, and if it seems that way to you as well I apologize, after I've hit my wordcount goal I'll probably go back and work on the pacing a little bit lol
> 
> ~~Granted it could just seem rushed to me because I tend to average 2.5K or more per chapter in most of my fics and this one I'm hitting around 1.5 per chapter so it feels like I'm getting it done too fast for it to not feel rushed reading it back~~

The look on King Regis’ face did not foretell a diplomatic end to this discussion, and though it was painful to admit, Noctis hadn’t been expecting one.

“You’re speaking above your station, Noctis.” The king warned, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No, maybe I don’t.” Noctis admitted, “But as the _prince,_ I think that I probably should, don’t you? Is this really something you want me to learn about on _accident_ if something happens to you?”

“I don’t appreciate your tone.” Hissed Regis.

“And I don’t appreciate my best friend being used as guinea pig and a blood bank for your daemon experiments.” Noctis hissed back.

“They are not _daemon_ experiments, Noctis!” The king’s voice raised, a warning that Noctis was going to ignore clear in his tone. “You have no idea at all what you’re accusing me of, do you?”

“I know enough to make an informed guess!” Noctis raised his voice in return, “You forced my best friend to submit to having his blood drawn at least once a week in order for him to be allowed among my inner circle, _without_ ever discussing it with me and without giving him a choice. For over two and a half years you made him give you blood for your experiments, and this whole time you’ve made him and everyone else keep it a secret from me.” He had dropped his voice to a hiss―yelling wouldn’t get him anywhere, “Do you know what you’ve done to him? He’s a _mess._ He hates needles, he hates having his blood drawn. I can’t even _imagine_ the number of panic attacks he must have had since this started.”

“Prompto is a big boy,” Regis rolled his eyes, and the dismissive motion made Noctis’ blood boil― as if it hadn’t been already. “He’s more than capable of―”

“ _That doesn’t mean he should have to do it.”_ Noctis spat before he could finish, “You’re violating his rights by even saying that he should, let alone _making_ him. And given the way the experiments are going I’d say his rights aren’t the only ones you’ve been violating.”

“Watch you tongue.”

His father’s voice came out in a low growl, and Noctis was _seething._ They maintained eye contact and Noctis tried to put together a response that was more articulate than ‘suck my dick’.

“You know something, my son? These experiments weren’t at all a bad thing until recently. They were going very well, in fact. Until you and your bad feeling came in and everything went to shit.”

There was an accusation there, a barb that Noct was going to have to dig out with the metaphorical pliers later. It was well-veiled, _very_ well-veiled. No one else would catch the meaning. Catch the implication that Noctis’ bad feelings didn’t _predict_ what was going wrong.

“And do you know something, father?” Noctis asked in return, not bothering to stop the venom from entering his voice, “You’re a hypocrite.”

There was a pregnant silence in the room.

Regis seemed more surprised and confused than angry, thankfully, but that would likely change soon. Especially if Noctis continued to speak, which he intended to if Regis didn’t respond fast enough.

This was a dangerous thing to be doing, and he knew that. Fighting with his father could only end badly for him. He might cost Prompto his spot in his inner circle. He might cost all of his inner circle their spots. He might be grounded until he was 18.

But it was a risk he was willing to take.

Just because his father was the king didn’t mean that he had the right to ruin people’s lives just because he had the power.

“You’re a hypocrite,” Noctis repeated, lowly, “You publicly shame Niffleheim for human experimentation, for playing with daemons and other things that shouldn’t be played with. You publicly shame them for violating basic human rights, and for _what?_ So you can turn around and do the same thing under the very home that you live in?”

He was so mad he couldn’t see straight, frankly. It was a miracle he was still able to _speak,_ still able to put words to his thoughts and feelings instead of just spitting and cursing and screaming. He felt betrayed. He felt disgusted. His father had been running experiments in the _Citadel,_ experiments too close to what they knew of Niffleheim’s experiments for Noctis to excuse them. Experiments on _glaives._ Experiments on his _best friend._ And he’d _hidden_ it from him. He’d _lied_ to him when he raised concerns about his horrible feeling. And now he was implying that Noctis was out of line for being upset about all of that?

“You can talk until your face turns blue on TV about how you don’t endorse Niffleheim’s experiments, but as long as you’re using glaives and citizens as guinea pigs, you’re no fucking better.” He said, “I am _disgusted_ with you, and _everyone_ who knew what was happening. And more than that, _father?_ ”

He locked eyes with the silent man, setting his jaw and narrowing his eyes.

“More than that, _I am ashamed to be related to you.”_

Later, Noctis would swear he could have heard a pin drop in the throne room after that. Everything was completely silent. Regis stared. The glaives stared. Noctis _stared._

“As long as these experiments are going on,” He finally uttered, “You are no king or father of mine.”

With that, blood still boiling, mind still spinning, he turned on his heel, and he left.

The doors to the throne room slammed open and the glaives scurried to close them behind him, and he strode just as purposely back to his room as he had strode to the throne room. There wasn’t much time to get anything done, now. He had to come up with a contingency plan. Something to do now that he’d gotten into a fight with his father.

He really had intended to be diplomatic, too…

But his father had, of course, hadn’t responded to the diplomatic approach. He’d gotten angry, defensive, immediately.

Noctis should have expected as much.

He certainly had to get his temper from _somewhere,_ and all reports told him it hadn’t been his mother. Though he _had_ been told that he’d gotten her hard head… Not a combination that bred diplomacy and a fair temper, he was afraid. Even all of the training he’d had in being courtly and acting nice even when he was angry couldn’t hold back the fury still beating out a war beat in his chest.

Shame.

If it _could_ he imagined he wouldn’t get into near as much trouble.

Okay, not the point, and he needed to focus.

He turned a corner.

Okay.

He’d gotten into a fight with his father. His father knew _someone_ had told him the truth about what was happening with Prompto, which meant that Prompto above all others was in danger. Even if he was only in danger of being removed from the Citadel and not allowed back in, he was in danger, and Noctis had to do something about that.

Another corner. He should take the stairs instead of the elevator.

Gladio and Ignis were safe, they could easily prove that they hadn’t told him, so he didn’t have to figure anything out for them. But _Prompto…_ Well, he’d been the top priority anyway. He wasn’t going to be able to do anything against Regis and, frankly? Neither could Noctis. The most he could do is lock his father out of his room for the night and hope that they’d both calmed down come morning.

He all but flew into the stairwell and down the first flight headed for his room.

Keeping Prompto out of harm’s way was priority number one, and anything that happened to Noctis… Well, it happened. He didn’t care. He’d brave his father’s punishment any day if it meant keeping Prompto safe. He and Iris were just… They were important to him, and he wanted to protect him. So just like he’d taken the blame when Iris got lost chasing a cat all those years ago, he would take the punishment for Prompto telling him things he wasn’t supposed to.

The issue was getting Prompto somewhere he wasn’t in harm’s way. Anywhere in Insomnia, he was in danger. He could be found. He _would_ be found. They’d send the Crownsguard after him, if they decided he was guilty of anything. Which, considering he’d told Noctis about some top-secret experiments that could potentially paint the king in a very negative light to his people… Well, they’d probably hit him with treason.

He wasn’t chancing that.

He burst out of the stairwell on his floor and just barely managed to slow himself to that purposeful stride he’d had before. He had to look like nothing was wrong.

He had to leave, and he had to take Prompto. They were both probably in danger here, and while Noctis could come back and potentially escape Capital punishment or lifetime imprisonment for treason and evading justice, Prompto could not. If Prompto hid, if he ran, he was fucked, and if he stayed, he was fucked.

Usually, Noctis would be pretty sure that his father wouldn’t do anything major to Prompto, but after what he’d learned today and the horrible feeling he’d had for the past few days… He couldn’t chance that either.

He would not leave his best friend at his father’s mercy again.

Not this time.

Not when there was something he could do to help. Not when he _knew_ Prompto was in danger.

Okay.

Okay, so he had to leave, and he had to take Prompto.

He didn’t have the foggiest fucking clue what the country was like outside of Insomnia―he didn’t know where any towns were, any outposts. He didn’t know how long it would take them to get anywhere. And, most importantly, he didn’t have time to _plan,_ so he was going to have to wing this and wing it hard.

First step―get Gladio out of the way and set up some kind of alibi with him.

Step two―get Prompto, get supplies, and get out of the Citadel. He could warp out the window into the town without being noticed. He knew he could. He’d done it before.

Step three―make sure Prompto had enough supplies to get by.

Step four―get out of the city. It was nearing sunset so anyone leaving the city now would be supply trucks and they would stop in the first town or outpost they came across to avoid daemon attacks. If he and Prom were really sneaky and _really fucking lucky_ they could get into one and make it out of the city.

Step five―well, he wasn’t sure on step five yet, but he could figure it out later.

He turned the final corner of his journey while he was picking apart the first four steps, and had to school his expression before Gladio saw him. He gave his Shield a weary smile, and Gladio returned it.

“So I guess I’d better scatter then, huh?” Gladio asked, tired, but in good humor.

“I guess so,” Noctis managed to joke in return.

Gladio shrugged off the wall and made to do exactly that, though Noctis knew he would pause to say goodnight. He didn’t wait for that, though.

“Hey, Gladio?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think you can take Prom home in the morning? I’ve got a lot of stuff to catch up on now that I’m not bedridden and I’m sure he wants to go sleep in his own bed once we’re both sure the bullshit has cleared.” He gave Gladio his best puppy eyes, and Gladio sighed fondly, nodding.

“Sure thing, boss. See ya in the morning.”

“See ya.”

And, yeah, Noctis felt bad about lying, but that wasn’t going to stop him now.

He was a politician, for fuck’s sake.

Lying was in the job description.

He reentered his room and as soon as he assured that only Prompto was present he clicked the door shut and locked every single lock. It was the second-most obvious ‘fuck off’ he could give to whoever his father sent to try and drag him back to the throne room. Most obvious, of course, being having Gladio still stationed there.

He didn’t pause to talk very much to Prompto, instead grabbing two small travel bags from beneath his bed. And if the nausea and anxiety came rushing back in a consuming wave, then, well, they did, and he pushed through the discomfort they wrought.

He began rooting through his drawers and grabbing the least royal-looking clothes that he could find, stuffing them, still-folded, into one of his bags.

“Noct?” Prompto piped up, hesitant and maybe even scared, “What’s going on?”

“We’re leaving,” He explained shortly, and he didn’t _want_ to be short with Prompto but they really didn’t have very much time to pack before his father sent someone. “Now.”

“What?” Prompto sat bolt upright, “Why? What happened, I―”

“I can’t stay here if they’re doing things like this, Prom.” He stressed, and his voice broke a little. “Especially not to you. Dad’s pissed and more twisted than I thought he was and frankly? We’re both in danger and I… Shit, Prom.” He ran a hand through his hair, “I would have been fucking _furious_ anyway, but involving _you?_ Six, no wonder they thought they shouldn’t tell me… I don’t think I’ve ever been so angry.”

Belatedly, he realized he was crying, and he wasn’t sure if that was from frustration, fear, or the discomfort of still being super nauseous. He scrubbed stubbornly at his eyes.

“I…” Prompto’s voice sounded a little more even, now. “Okay. Okay, let’s go, then. You got a plan, you highness?”

“We’re on step two, right now.” Noctis replied, and was glad when Prompto practically materialized at his side and took over stuffing clothes into his bag.

“What’s step two, exactly?”

And that was not Prompto the terrified teenager speaking. Noctis knew this voice. This was Prompto the Crownsguard. He _was_ terrified, obviously, but he was putting it aside to help Noctis help him get out of here as fast as humanly possible.

“Get my shit, get you, and get the fuck out of the Citadel.”


	7. Smugglers

They packed his clothes bag full to bursting before they sealed it and moved on to the essential items that Gladio had insisted that he keep around just in case.

That being camping gear.

Of course.

Noctis’ collection was rather sparse in comparison to what he was sure Gladio intended, but it would certainly work. He had a tent and two sleeping bags and four bags of trail mix and three gallon freezer bags full of jerky directly from the big man himself. It’d at least last them until they got to an outpost or a town.

And on that note, he knew they didn’t use the same kind of currency outside of the Crown City, so he threw some trinkets and old pieces of gift jewelry into the bag on top of everything else, to be sold at the first outpost they were able to actually reach. None of it would be missed. Even Ignis didn’t know he still had half of this stuff.

He could only hope that any of it would be worth a decent sum of money.

With that finished, though, he only felt safe doing one final screening of the room and quickly change into something less conspicuous.

By the time he’d changed into that something, he heard footsteps coming up the hall.

He had Prompto clinging to him and bags tightly held before they even reached the door, and he was standing in the nearest back alley before they tried the knob. Prompto continued to cling to him as he softly explained that step three was his place, and the next few warps took them through the city as quietly and as far from other people as possible.

Prompto packed and changed his clothes in record time, and it was when they were hustling unseen down a side-street that they’d both left their phones behind at the Citadel. Noctis decided (and stated aloud for his friend’s benefit) that that was probably a good thing.

“If we don’t have them, they can’t use them to track us.” He explained, voice hushed.

“Well it’s safe to have my camera, right?” Prompto asked, hand flying to his bag protectively. “You spent a lot of money on it, I don’t…”

“You can have the camera,” Noctis rolled his eyes fondly, though fondness and fortitude were hard to scrape up in their current situation. “Unless dad had someone bug it at the  _ store _ or sneak into your house to bug it, it’s fine.”

Prompto just nodded, relieved, and they continued on.

It was well and truly nearing sunset when they came upon the main road and the current  _ line _ of cargo trucks trying to leave the city. Noctis paused to explain step four, and Prompto heaved a shaking sigh. But then Prompto the Crownsguard was there again, and Noctis never realized how much he appreciated his friend having what was essentially an anti-anxiety switch that seemed to automatically be installed. He could just turn into a soldier at a moment’s notice.

It would be good during this.

Noctis watched closely as the trucks were checked over by several flashlight-wielding glaives, and then allowed through. Once he got a feel for how the inspections went down, he managed to figure out about how much time he had between them averting their flashlights and the back of the truck being closed up.

And everyone thought he was a ditzy prince who didn’t pay attention.

“Okay,” He said, “Grab onto me and be ready to warp in three, two…”

They thumped ungracefully into the back of the third-to-last truck in the line, and it was only the sound of the door slamming closed that covered them and kept them from being discovered. The truck lurched into motion and Noctis stumbled his way back to the door. It’d probably be locked from the outside, except he didn’t see any of the glaives actually re-secure the backs of the trucks.

A small window-like door high on the door allowed him to pop it open slightly and see what was going on and where they were. He kept it open only a crack, and he stood there over bumps and jostling and Prompto’s occasional indignant squeaking. He held his breath as they passed through the Wall, sure they’d be caught, but…

Everything went smoothly, and then they were on the bridge out of Insomnia, to the Leide region.

He stayed right there for the entire hour that they drove before the sun sank so dangerously low in the sky that the driver decided to pull over. Noct heard more than saw all of the other trucks from the line making the same decision, and saw a garage just outside his little peephole. A kindly southern voice greeted some of the drivers, and they greeted her in return. After the sun dropped below the horizon and the lights flickered on outside, Noctis tried the door, just to see.

It was unlocked, but it probably wouldn’t stay that way. The driver would probably check it in the morning.

He opened it a crack and waited, silent and terrified, until he heard all of the trucks’ doors close again, and the distant din of voices stopped completely. And he waited for about another thirty minutes after that.

He slid the door open as slowly as he possibly could, and snuck out with a quick order to Prompto to stay put until he came back.

Surveying the trucks, he managed to find one without a secured back. It was more a caravan than a truck, and it didn’t appear to be full to bursting so they’d probably be able to hunker down without being seen. He hoped so.

He crept closer and checked, and when he found suitable spots within for him and Prompto to hide in, he returned to his friend and managed to get him out without either of them hurting themselves or making a ruckus. He closed the first truck’s back hatch and made sure to lock it.

Then the two of them climbed into the other truck, got comfy behind some boxes, and tried to sleep.


	8. Hiking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's kinda long, lol  
> It comprises most of today's wordcount, if i'm honest

The truck lurching into motion was what got their attention in the morning and woke them with barely muffled curses and indignant yelps.

A quick pop up of Noctis’ head showed that most of the other trucks were already gone, and the sun was well-enough into the sky to count as mid-morning. They seemed to be the last one leaving.

There were upsides and downsides to this, as one might expect.

Most of the upsides were that Noctis and Prompto wouldn’t have to ride too long while hidden away. They could generally afford to creep toward the back of the truck and watch the road go by, and at this angle they’d stay cool even if it stayed hot outside. And it would  _ probably _ stay hot outside―what little Noctis knew about the Leide region was that it was  _ hot. _ Not a surprise considering the sandy terrain.

The downsides were that they’d have to duck quickly if they saw anyone coming up behind them, the sand from the sides of the road probably liked to fly up into the back of the truck, and Noctis didn’t have a clue where this guy was going.

They turned away from the outpost where they’d stayed the night and Noctis and Prompto crept to the back of the truck to see the place. Looked like it was called Hammerhead… They’d have to remember that.

… And Noctis  _ did _ remember that. South of Hammerhead, probably down this exact road, was Galdin Quay.

He winced.

As much as he’d  _ like _ to abscond from Lucis with Prompto, he couldn’t afford to yet. They needed new clothes and  _ money _ before they could leave the country. And  _ probably _ travel papers. Which implied more money because he’d have to pay someone to forge them.

He stewed in the idea for a while, watching the road go by behind them and trying very hard to figure out step five of their plan. They’d gotten their shit and gotten the hell out of Insomnia,  _ now what? _ They could, of course, try to head for one of the Lucian cities where they could hunker down for a while, make some money… Though staying out of the towns was probably their best bet for making money―long term employment wasn’t an option and it wasn’t as if they’d be able to afford lodging in a town for a while yet, anyway. They’d be better off looking for an outpost and taking some hunting jobs. They could always set up camp in a haven, too, which would keep them marginally safer than sleeping in the wild.

The truck rolled to a slow stop and Noctis made a knee-jerk decision, patting Prompto to get his attention and clambering out of the truck. Prompto followed without questioning it, of course, and peeking around the truck showed them that the driver had stopped to yield to another that was passing in front of him, headed south down the same road he was probably going down if his blinker was any indication.

Definitely headed to Galdin Quay, then.

Best for them to have gotten out here―it was a four-way stop, and if he managed to recall the roadmap he’d studied a few weeks ago while discussing imports and exports from the Crown City… There was only one of those when you were heading southeast from Hammerhead, and the southern road led directly to Galdin Quay. The  _ eastern _ road led to the edge of Cauthess, and if one went north from there… He was  _ pretty _ sure there was an Outpost a little ways up the road.

He seemed to recall a Chocobo racetrack in that area, as well…

But it was a long walk, he was sure. He’d just have to hope that there was a haven on the way there, and if there wasn’t… Well, he might not sleep tonight. He might just have to be awake until morning to keep Prompto safe.

The issue with that being that Gladio still had access to his Armiger, and he was attuned enough to it that he knew if there was a high volume of things going into or coming out of it. Summoning his sword too many times to fight would tell Gladio he was doing  _ something. _

Ushering Prompto off the road into the sand to duck down while the truck finally turned, he mused on this.

They’d probably realized he wasn’t in his room, by now. If Gladio hadn’t been able to get in to get Prompto then they’d have knocked until they decided to send a Crownsguard in. At this point, they probably thought he was still in the city, just hunkering down out of the way while he waited for his father to calm down. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d run off to wait in the city while both he and his dad were in bad temper. They were probably looking for him, but under the assumption that nothing was really wrong.

The prince was just waiting for the official fallout of a fight with the king.

It was pretty much standard fare. He and King Regis had notoriously bad tempers and they got into it all the time, and there was no love lost between them for it. They loved each other very much. They just butted heads and sometimes Noctis wished he wasn’t a royal so that maybe his dad wouldn’t be so weird, but what teenage boy didn’t occasionally wish he was from a different family? So they would be searching Insomnia for him and Prompto.

If he did anything obvious now, that’d set off alarms. He’d have to wait…

Well, he had all day. They wouldn’t be checking outside of Insomnia for some time yet, even if he  _ did _ something drastic. The presence of his phone in his room would tell them that he was  _ probably _ in the city and Prompto’s being there would only further the illusion. No one knew where he hid his camping gear or bags, so they wouldn’t know he’d taken it.

When the hum of the truck’s engine faded into the background, Noctis stood and brushed himself off. Prompto followed him without being told, and Noctis tried for a moment to get his bearings again. He’d determined the road  _ east _ led to Cauthess, right? So that would be the road straight across from where he was.

Okay, they just had to walk along the road.

So he and Prompto got back onto the road and began to walk.

“You know what I should do?” Prompto asked after a few moments of quiet walking. Without waiting for an answer he said, excitedly, “I should take pictures to document the trip. For keepsakes!”

Fondness and fortitude were still a little hard to grasp at the moment, in the face of abandoning his city and his position in order to save the blond next to him (and himself), and escape from the nasty shit his dad was doing in the Citadel with his scientists, but… Well, Prompto had always been good at bringing out the good qualities in him.

Fondness bloomed in his chest, and he laughed.

Disbelieving, fond, amused... He noticed he felt those things a lot, around Prompto. He had this  _ way _ of catching Noctis off guard and making him feel better during shitty situations as a result. He was just  _ ridiculous _ sometimes, and so wholehearted and aware of it that it just warmed Noctis from the inside out. He was a great friend, and a good person in general. He wouldn’t hesitate to say he loved him. He was very much his best friend.

Gladio was his brother, Ignis too.

Prompto was something different.

“Go for it,” He said, shaking his head and smiling, and, shit, maybe things weren’t so bad. It could be like a roadtrip.

“I already got some!” Prompto chirped excitedly, “The Hammerhead Garage looked really pretty reflecting the sunrise. And I saw a  _ cactus _ earlier, Noct―I never knew they got so big!”

Once Prompto got talking, of course, he didn’t stop. Noctis didn’t mind, nor was he particularly inclined to stop him. It was nice to have some noise while they walked, even if it eventually devolved into Prompto complaining about walking and asking how much further they had to go.

“I wish I knew, bud,” Noctis snorted, “But I only know the roads from looking at a map like a  _ week _ ago. Didn’t really get to see how many miles it was to where I’m trying to head.”

Prompto pouted.

But then he was back to talking and snapping pictures of things. Noctis would have to remember to try and budget for camera film for him. Taking away his ability to photograph things would be damn near criminal―it was Prompto’s second-favorite pastime. And it would be good for him to be able to keep busy while they were doing something that was otherwise very boring.

As the day continued on, they passed into a greener region. Noctis would bet money that they’d passed into Duscae, which meant they were on the right track.

Okay, now that they were in Duscae, Cauthess shouldn’t be terribly far. Several miles, for sure, but within reach. They might even reach it before nightfall if they continued at their current pace.

But, then, Prompto wasn’t exactly trained like Noctis. He wasn’t used to being on his feet for this long.

Strangely, he hadn’t started complaining about his feet or legs hurting yet, and after a moment Noctis remembered that he’d lost considerable weight between their first meeting and the point at which they actually became friends. He felt a little sheepish for forgetting all the effort he’d put into that. Of course he wasn’t complaining about this―he’d done enough cardio and stamina training to get to his current size  _ and _ keep up with Gladio at the gym.

He almost smacked himself, but refrained.

“Oh, do you think we’ll get to see any chocobos?” Prompto asked, practically bouncing on his feet, “I love chocobos…”

“I know you do.” Noctis smiled fondly, “The outpost we’re heading to should be across the street from a chocobo track, so…”

And, now that he was thinking back, he was pretty sure that Ignis had said something about that particular outpost doubling as a farm of some kind. Maybe a chocobo ranch? That’d be just the thing for Prompto. He’d love it.

No―he’d  _ adore  _ it.

He cracked another smile at the thought.

He’d have to hold out hope, then.

For the next hour and a half, Prompto did nothing but ramble about chocobos. Noctis didn’t mind. Prompto knew a lot more about them than Noctis had actually expected, if he was honest. He must have done his research… He’d be pretty good at raising chocobo, honestly, from the sounds of things.

It was certainly an idea.

They stopped, once or twice, to have a quick bite to eat, but for the most part they walked while they chewed. Noctis made a note to sell off some of his trinkets so they could buy more food sooner rather than later. As good as the jerky and trail mix was, and as much as it would keep their energy up, he’d really prefer not to live off of nuts, dried fruit, chocolate, and jerky for any longer than he had to.

He’d also need to invest in water bottles.

They could only go so long without water.

As daylight began to wane, Noctis was all but delighted to see the Disc looming up before them. If nothing else, it was a sign they were nearly to their destination.

They hadn’t moved terribly fast today, he’d admit, and they should probably go faster when they started again in the morning, but… But they’d made good progress for today. He wasn’t going to dispute that, or ruin it for himself by implying that not making it to the outpost was some horrible thing that they really had all that much control over. Even if they’d jogged all day they wouldn’t have gotten there today. They’d have had to stop at some point before reaching it.

“We’re gonna have to stop soon,” Prompto said, sounding  _ not at all _ enthused by the idea. “It’s getting late.”

And Noctis couldn’t blame him for being unhappy and hesitant about it. Sleeping out in the open was an awful lot like suicide at night, outside of Insomnia. The Wall kept the daemons out, but there was no such protection afforded to the rest of the county. Not anymore. Not after his grandfather scaled the Wall back to protect the Crown city, specifically.

It was going to be a dangerous night, and he was going to be exhausted tomorrow.

He and Prompto hopped off the side of the road, into what was more or less a ditch, and Noctis did his best to pitch the tent on the most level, most well-covered area he could before laying out one of the sleeping bags inside for Prompto. That got him an odd look, of course, because he hadn’t explained his intentions yet. He’d really just let Prompto talk all day, if he was honest, and he  _ might _ need to start working on that. Keeping the plan to himself wasn’t really very smart.

“I’m gonna be keeping watch.” He explained, and Prompto’s brows furrowed. “I’m trained to fight daemons so it’s not like I’ll be in a whole lot of danger.”

“Okay,” Prompto allowed, though he clearly didn’t want to, “But if you need me,  _ wake me up. _ ”

“I will,” Noctis promised.

They sat together outside the tent for a little while, while the sun sank further, and ate some more. They even dared venture a little further away in order to grab some firewood in the form of fallen sticks and leaves. Noctis set fire to them with a small blast of fire from the tips of his fingers. Having a fire may attract some attention, especially outside of a Haven, but the light should drive most daemons away. If he could just make the fire  _ blue _ they’d probably be left completely alone.

Prompto sat with him for a while longer after that, even when the sun began to well and truly disappear.

Noctis spent the time taking inventory of what was currently stored inside of his Armiger. Prompto’s guns, his sword and spear, a couple of lanterns. All of Gladio’s weapons and shields. Ignis’ knives and some cooking supplies. There was a lot, and it was odd to him that the vast majority of it belonged to his retainers rather than to him. He would have to fix that. He would  _ really _ need to fix that.

He hated that Gladio would know when he started pulling too many things out of it. Both he and Gladio just had this  _ sense _ for when someone took something out of the Armiger or put it in, and while Gladio could only find what  _ he’d _ put in there he always knew who was putting something in or taking it out. They all had a different feeling to them.

And if the missing prince pulled a couple of things out, big deal. He was still alive and he was probably just grabbing something he’d thrown in there a while ago. Gladio probably wouldn’t even make note of it to anyone else except to reassure them that he wasn’t dead.

But if he started pulling a  _ lot _ out, or pulling things out and putting them back several times, that would become an issue. Gladio would rightly assume that Noctis was in danger and he’d flip his shit. Understandably Noctis really didn’t want that. He needed to keep as low of a profile as possible, but no matter which way he spun it, he would end up worrying Gladio to the point of him doing something stupid. Even if he just kept hold of his sword all night he’d have to deal with it every time he got into a fight and had to pull it out and put it away quickly. Gladio would  _ know. _

And Noctis didn’t want him to.

He was going to have to do something to worry Gladio and Ignis  _ immensely. _

And while he felt bad about doing it to Gladio, part of him thought that Ignis deserved the worry after what he’d knowingly put Prompto through.

They were both going to  _ kill _ him if he ever talked to them again, though.

“I’m about to do something stupid,” He announced to Prompto, and then concentrated very hard and…

And he revoked Gladio and Ignis’ access to the Armiger. He made sure that whatever they’d put into it was left with them. And it may have to rain knives from waist high around Ignis and there  _ might _ be broadswords stuck through floor tiles surrounding Gladio, but it was a necessary evil. As long as no one was seriously injured, he’d be able to live with it.

Prompto, though he’d never been particularly sensitive to the goings-on of the Armiger, looked somewhat alarmed. Noctis imagined that even he would feel the mass exodus of Gladio and Ignis’ stuff from the Armiger. It was a lot of stuff, after all.

“Gladio could tell whenever I took something out,” He explained to the bewildered blond, “The best way to stop that is to revoke his access, and Ignis’ too while I was at it.”

Prompto allowed that to sink in, slowly nodded, and then shook his head as if to clear it. “I… Yeah, fair. They’re gonna be so fucking freaked, though, dude…”

“I know.” Noctis sighed.

There was a silence.

“You should go to bed.” He added.

Prompto nodded again, bid him goodnight, and disappeared into the tent for the night.

It took an hour for anything to come trekking toward their campsite, but Noctis was just as awake then as he’d been before. He heard it before he saw it, of course, and he had his sword in hand in an instant.

The first daemon he’d ever met did not last terribly long.

All of his hesitance to hurt or kill enemies had been trained out of him at a young age by Gladio and the others, so driving his blade through it’s throat and pinning it to the ground was a non-issue to him. He watched it struggle for the briefest moment before it… Exploded? He jerked away on instinct, covering his face and ducking. But all he felt was the hint of smoke brushing his arm, so he peeked his eyes open and saw his sword in the ground where the daemon had been, and smoke rising up from what had once been its body and was now only empty space.

Huh.

Well, that explained the lack of daemon corpses scattered across the country, he guessed.

He spent the rest of the night after that catching catnaps in the light of the fire and dispatching the Imps that tried to sneak up on him. Thankfully he didn’t sleep terribly well or deeply when he wasn’t comfortable, so sitting half-upright on the cold ground kept him just awake enough to protect himself.

A couple of times, he had to venture out to get more sticks for the fire. Each time he almost froze up just outside the light of the fire, worried about Prompto, worried about himself. What if a daemon got into the tent? What if he got Prompto killed by bringing him out here? What would he do if he lost his best friend? All of the potions and phoenix down that had been in the Armiger were Ignis’, so they’d gotten dumped wherever his future advisor had been at the time.

But each time he returned to the tent in tact and Prompto still asleep.

By morning he’d stopped jumping at every shadow, but he was exhausted. Walking the rest of the way to the outpost seemed like a Fool’s Errand, now, but… But he’d do it. He wouldn’t sidetrack them any longer than he had to, and he was more than capable of making it through a second day in order to sleep tonight. By then they’d probably have found a haven, and he wouldn’t  _ have _ to stay up all night.

“Prom.” He crawled into the tent to shake his friend awake, “Prom, it’s morning.”

Prompto grumbled and swatted at him, but nevertheless he got up and they were able to break camp before the sun was completely over the horizon. Prompto complained, of course, but it was half-hearted and he didn’t really seem all that bothered. He was just complaining for the sake of having something to talk about, Noctis thought. He was too groggy to be asked to do much better than that, and Noctis didn’t care. Even if he was complaining, at least Prompto was  _ talking. _

It kept his morale higher than he’d like to admit to have his friend there beside him,  _ talking. _

They turned north up the road that would take them to the chocobo track, and if Noctis was a bit of a bastard about them making better time than yesterday, well, he’d have to apologize for it later. Nevertheless, they  _ did _ make better time today, and by noon they’d passed by the track and found themselves, thankfully,  _ finally, _ at the outpost he’d been hoping for.

And, as he’d been hoping, it was, indeed, a chocobo ranch.

They met with the owner, a man named Wiz, and he was overall very friendly and willing to part with some gil (apparently that was what the currency outside of Insomnia was called) in exchange for a few of Noctis’ more lavish-looking trinkets. Noctis appreciated it more than he could really articulate.

They spent the afternoon there, and he took great solace in temporarily being able to relax. Prompto played with the young chocobos freely wandering for most of the afternoon, and occasionally chatting with Wiz about them. He seemed very much in his element, here, and Noctis briefly had an idea for what they could do while they were hiding from his father and the rest of Lucis. Maybe once they’d made enough money he could convince Wiz to part with a couple of his chocobos… He knew the man was willing to rent them out, maybe he’d sell a couple.

It was a nice thought, but unlikely to be realistic.

Noctis couldn’t help daydreaming a little, though. If he and Prompto had to be in this situation (and it wasn’t outside his range of understanding that they didn’t  _ have _ to be, but he’d already crossed and burned that particular bridge), was it so wrong for him to want them to at least have fun with it? It was early enough they weren’t being looked for outside of the city and if all went well he’d be out of the country by the time they even thought to look for him in the Duscae region.

He could dream.

He could fucking dream that he and Prompto could do something relaxed and  _ fun _ somewhere else, somewhere safer.

Even if it was a just a dream, it was something.

It was something.

Nearing nightfall, Noctis asked Wiz if he knew of any nearby havens, and the man kindly pointed them up the road a little ways. Thanking him, he managed to get Prompto to leave the young chocobos behind and they left.

He seemed kind of glum, though, and Noctis could only fondly smile and shake his head.

“We’re going back in the morning, Prom. You’ll have plenty of time to hang out with the chocobos.”

That got an excited whoop from his friend, and all he could do was laugh in reply.


	9. Hunting

Returning to the chocobo ranch in the morning, Noctis allowed Prompto some time to hang out with the chocobos while he discussed possible avenues of earning a wage out here with Wiz. The man suggested taking on hunts, and Noctis liked that idea very much. He was a good enough hunter and Prompto was a great shot, so it wasn’t as if it was outside their skillset. They could probably make a killing off of hunts.

When Prompto indicated he’d had his fix for the morning, Noctis asked if Wiz knew of any current hunts they could take on.

Given he was rested up after a good night’s rest and he was honestly kind of itching to actually _do_ something, he was eager to take on the hunt that Wiz suggested. It was very simple, both in theory and in practice, but it was a good start.

And it wasn’t a memorable hunt at all, really, just a few small monsters in the nearby woods that were quickly dispatched. They returned with the required trophies for proof along with the actual bodies of the monsters, though those were tucked into the Armiger for the time being. Wiz was quick to give them their reward for the hunt, and suggested they try taking on one or more per day if they really wanted to make a living―there wasn’t any shortage of monsters, after all, and since he ran both a cafe _and_ the chocobo ranch itself (along with the rental service, of course), he didn’t have any shortage of reward money to give them for the hunts.

Noctis was frankly a little surprised when Prompto indicated that he was eager to do exactly that.

“You? _You_ want to keep going on hunts?” Noctis asked, incredulous but not at all upset.

Prompto grinned, cheeks red and highlighting all those freckles. “It’s something to do and I actually… Kinda like fighting. With you.”

Wiz smiled, and Noctis smiled too because fucking. God he loved his best friend.

“Well if you don’t mind doing it then I won’t have to feel bad asking for your help, so that’s a plus,” Noctis said, instead of that, and if nothing else it made Prompto and Wiz laugh.

* * *

It took a week after that for a decent hunt to be offered to them.

And, don’t get Noctis wrong, the other hunts they had in the meantime made them a decent amount of money.  _ More _ than a decent amount, even. And since they got to keep their kills and he’d learned from Gladio how to skin and prep monsters to be made into food it  _ also _ gave them another form of food without having to buy anything, except maybe some spices and things to cook in―but Wiz let them borrow the cafe’s kitchen when they were in real need of cooking something, so that was covered as well.

Really, what he meant by ‘decent’, was a hunt that he would  _ remember. _

Aside from remembering the first one because it was  _ the first one, _ it was very bland and so were the others. They weren’t offered anything big because they were young and they hadn’t yet proven they were particularly capable of taking down anything bigger than what they’d already dealt with.

A week in, Wiz sent them after something that he would remember for a long time. Something bigger than what they’d been dealing with so far. He told them that, so far, they’d proven their determination and commitment, and he was willing to give them, like everyone else, a shot at this quest. There was a behemoth in the woods nearby that was causing him some grief as it scared the chocobos so damn bad they didn’t really want to leave the ranch. The rental service’s profits had plummeted as a result, and understandably that was bad for him, the people who wanted to rent any but the most courageous chocobo, and the chocobos themselves, as several of them were over-grooming themselves from stress.

“Now, I don’t particularly expect that you two boys can do much more than the experienced hunters could, but maybe you can.” He said, “And maybe not. Either way, I’ll reward ya for trying. Deadeye’s not something I savor sending you after, but… Well. Something needs done about him.”

Noctis would have done it even  _ without _ the explanation, but with it he was just more hyped up to go. 

As it turned out, he really liked hunting, even if he still had trouble moving around terribly much without his nausea coming back to kick his ass, and Prompto was turning out to have a thing for it, as well. It paid well and it kept them active every day. And Prompto got some  _ great _ shots on a couple of the hunts, so of course he was happy with that.

Not to mention, what kind of self-respecting teenager  _ wouldn’t _ want to go throw down with a behemoth named  _ Deadeye? _

Trick question, of course―only dumbass, thrill-seeking teenagers who were trained to fight wanted to do that, but Noctis didn’t mind that particular truth. Like―whatever, right? So what if he was a dumbass thrill-seeking teenager.

It made good money being a dumbass thrill-seeking teenager.

So he and Prompto got their shit and headed off into the Nebulawood to hunt down this behemoth. On the way, they made a game-plan―Noctis would deal with Deadeye up close, and Prompto would try to stick to cover and shoot at weak spots.

Not the world’s most eloquent or well-thought out plan, but it had worked well for them in most other hunts, so they were certain it’d serve them well during this one.

It wasn’t until they’d gotten into the Nebulawood and started tracking down this bastard that they started to realize there  _ might _ be an issue with this plan.

One… Big issue.

That one big issue being that Noctis was  _ pretty fucking sure _ that Deadeye didn’t  _ have _ any exploitable weak points that Prompto would be able to do anything about. This thing looked like he had skin thick enough to equate to freakin’  _ kevlar _ , and his legs were probably bigger around than Noctis and Prompto combined. He was  _ huge _ and Noctis was starting to understand how more experienced hunters were having trouble killing him. Finding a weakness for something like this must be damn near impossible for anyone not formally trained in identifying weak points.

_ Six. _

Noctis could only hope that this big guy was vulnerable to magic, because he didn’t really expect his sword to get through that skin.

He’d be better off summoning fire, or lightning, or ice. At least  _ that _ didn’t make his stomach roll, because he had to stand still to do it and channeling his innate magic didn’t cause an immediate increase in his nausea even when it was flaring up at so much as a blink. He’d regret it  _ later, _ of course, when he and Prompto were back at camp and the adrenaline faded away to let the nausea run its course. But he would be regretting a lot of things, later, and the belated spike in his nausea would just have to be one of them.

When they tracked him into the intense fog characteristic of the Nebulawood, Noctis fell back momentarily to make sure Prompto could follow, and then both of them rushed to follow Deadeye despite the low visibility. Voices low, they discussed a change in plan.

“He looks like he’d probably be most vulnerable to magic,” Noctis said, and Prompto nodded along while they trailed him. “I think I’m gonna try to hit him with fire, first. If we’re lucky I’ll be right and it’ll drop him long enough for us to find a hole in all that thick skin.”

“What I wouldn’t give for incendiary rounds,” Prompto mourned with a sigh, “I could kill two birds with one stone―if you can get him in a position where I can get up close and hit him in his good eye…”

“We need to get you a couple new guns,” Noctis decided, and the spark in Prompto’s eyes was obvious even in the fog. “But I’ll see what I can do.”

When they emerged out of the fog, right on Deadeye’s tail, Noctis chose to strike. He didn’t have any time to dither around waiting for a better opportunity. They were losing daylight by the minute, and personally he didn’t fancy getting into a fight with daemons immediately after getting out of one with a behemoth.

Just seemed like a bad plan.

He point-warped to a high place on Deadeye’s blind side, and he pulled hard on his magic while he prepared for a second warp. When he landed, inches away from the beast’s right foreleg, he tossed down the biggest fireball he could summon on such short notice.

It exploded out into a field of searing flames, as he expected, and the beast roared so loudly that it hurt his ears. He point-warped back up out of the way when Deadeye reared up on his hind legs. He was well out of the way by the time those huge feet touched back down on the ground… But he still felt the ground shake beneath his feet.

His eyes turned immediately to where he’d left Prompto, and he saw the blond clinging to the rock he was still hidden behind. He couldn’t make out details from his current position, but he was sure Prompto’s face would be surprised if he could see it.

Deadeye lurched into a full-on sprint, circling madly, trying to catch sight of what had burned him. Noctis jerked downward, flattening himself against the ground of his high perch. He could only hope Prompto got out of sight as well. But it was hard to think of much of anything with his brain rattling around in his head and his cheek smacking periodically against the rocks.

When the shaking stopped, he lifted his head to see Deadeye had stopped, breathing hard, facing in the direction he’d started in.

Prompto was still standing, thank the Six, but if the way he jerked his arm was any indication he was frustrated. Noctis didn’t blame him―it was a promising reaction to fire, but if he reacted like that every time there was no way for Prompto to hit him. He ran too fast. Prompto was a great shot but not when the target was spinning in circles with the weak point only on display every once in a while. Not unless it was constant. He didn’t have enough time to adjust to it if it was as brief as it had been.

Noctis warped back to Prompto.

“Fucking hell,” Was the first thing Prompto said, with a groan, “We need a better plan.”

“No,” Noctis said, “We need to get you to a better vantage point. Do you think you could make the shot through his blind eye?”

“Probably, yeah.” Prompto cocked his head to the side. “Are you… You’re warping me up there with you?”

“I’ve got enough for about two more warps if I don’t pull off any more magic, so, yeah. Ideally I warp you up there, you take the shot, it downs him, and we warp back down.”

Prompto seemed to consider it, then the still unmoving Deadeye. He was a sitting duck right now, trying so hard to see where the fire had come from but making no progress. They wouldn’t get another chance like this easily.

“Okay,” He agreed, after a moment. “Let’s do it.”

So Noctis grabbed him and they warped back to his vantage point. For a second, Noct worried Deadeye heard them, when his head swiveled in their direction. But he resumed searching the ground with his good eye, and Prompto lined up the shot. If this at least put him on the ground, Noctis could do the rest once they got down there. If it killed him,  _ fucking awesome. _

But it probably wouldn’t kill him.

He was a big monster, after all.

One headshot probably wasn’t enough to kill off something his size, especially considering the caliber of Prompto’s rounds.

Maybe a  _ shotgun _ blast point blank, but… Not a .22 from 15 feet away.

The shot echoed off all the rocks around them and Noctis had to cover his ears because otherwise he might go temporarily deaf. Prompto didn’t even flinch.

There was a flash of back-spatter, and Deadeye roared as he jerked sideways and fell. He flailed his legs and then fell eerily still, but his chest still heaved. He wasn’t dead yet.

Grabbing Prompto, Noctis warped them back down to the ground and clambered up to balance on the great beast’s cheek, under its eye. And with one downward thrust of his sword, the beast seized and kicked its legs again, but soon it fell still once more. For good measure, though, Noctis drove the sword down lower and twisted it.

Deadeye’s chest heaved.

It stopped, and the beast let out one final groan that would probably stick with Noctis for the rest of his life. It chilled him to the bone.

He hated death rattles.

But he withdrew his sword and hopped down, nonetheless. He knew he must look pale, because Prompto gave him a concerned look from his spot safely out of range of Deadeye’s legs. He waved the concern off and spent the next few moments hacking off Deadeye’s remaining horn. It would be a good way to prove they’d killed him, he thought. Not to mention they could probably sell it for a good price.

It took both he and Prompto to carry it back out of the Nebulawood and all the way to Wiz’s outpost. Thing was  _ heavy. _ And unwieldy, for that matter. No matter what end either one of them grabbed, they both had to reposition themselves awkwardly in order for it be held comfortably between them without either of them carrying too much of the weight.

The look on Wiz’s face when they came in with Deadeye’s horn was enough to wash away all the lingering chill in Noctis’ blood. It made him laugh―triumphant and amused and probably more disbelieving than Wiz was. And once  _ he _ started laughing,  _ Prompto _ started laughing, and by the time they made it to Wiz they had to drop the horn so that they could sit down.

They had as much trouble believing they’d done it, now that they’d had a little time to calm down, as Wiz and everyone else standing around did.

A stray chocobo chick wandered over to sniff hesitantly at the horn, and it kicked up such a fuss that one of the bigger babies came over to usher it away. A nearby adolescent was the next up, and Noct managed to stop laughing only because he was so enveloped watching the reaction. This older one sniffed, straightened, and let out a croaking caw that made all the adults pop their heads up and move to the edge of their little fenced-in area.

And then all of  _ them _ began to caw, and it was just one loud mess for a moment before they all abruptly went pretty much silent once more.

Noct knew he must look like an idiot, sitting on his ass in front of a behemoth horn, mouth open, staring in awe at the chocobos. He snapped his mouth shut and turned still-wide eyes on Wiz, who just looked impressed. At least he wasn’t judging Noct for the reaction.

“Well, boys, I think a reward’s in order.” He said.

Noctis wasn’t sure, but he didn’t think either of them could manage much more than a nod.

They managed to pick themselves and the horn up off the ground soon enough, though, and they explained (though not fully truthfully) how they’d managed to down the behemoth. The version Wiz (and the onlookers who gathered) got was that they’d stalked the beast through the fog at the Nebulawood, and then, when it stopped for a time, they’d managed to climb onto a high ridge and Prompto had shot it through its bad eye. After that, Noctis had clambered down to make sure it was dead.

They made sure the story  _ sounded _ better than that, of course―Prompto told it.

Prompto just had a way with words, and he had their audience completely enraptured. Was it too early to say he loved his best friend  _ again? _ Did he say it too much?

Eh, whatever.

He loved his best friend.


	10. Preparations

The next morning, something felt  _ off _ to Noctis, and he wasn’t sure what it was.

It wasn’t a bad feeling, there was nothing  _ wrong. _ Something was just  _ off. _ Different than it was yesterday.

He felt like an idiot, two hours later, when he realized that he wasn’t nauseous and dizzy and unwaveringly anxious anymore.

_ That _ was what was different.

The bloody needles issue had been resolved.

A new one was sure to follow, of course―his father had probably put an end to the experiments in hopes it would bring him back home. Probably made a TV appearance begging him to come home so they could talk. His father wouldn’t be angry, now, he’d just be worried. But that was just where Noctis was concerned, and Noctis wasn’t particularly concerned with that. His father was still likely to be  _ very _ angry at Prompto, and he didn’t want Prompto in danger like he’d felt like he would be.

Taking him on hunts was a different kind of danger. On hunts he had potions and phoenix down and a sword to protect Prompto’s life with.

He didn’t have that with his dad and all of his rules and laws. Prompto was probably considered by the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive to be some kind of traitor to the Crown for letting slip what had been happening. And those kinds of accusations weren’t thrown around lightly in Lucis. Prompto would be in danger if that kind of talk was the case and no amount of swords and phoenix downs and potions would keep Prompto from getting hurt somehow.

He wished he could say that this was all for Prompto’s benefit because of that, but he knew that wasn’t true.

A lot of this was because he was selfish and angry and he was tired of his friend being hurt, and he didn’t want to lose one of the best people he knew over his dad’s stupid decisions. It was bad enough he was  _ betrothed _ to Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, whom he’d met exactly  _ once _ , and their marriage sometime after his 20th birthday was meant to be a bargaining chip for peace with the Niffs. Having his best friend taken away from him because his dad used him in nasty daemon experiments and Prompto couldn’t keep his mouth shut about it forever? It was out of the question.

He shook the thoughts and feelings away and helped Prompto break camp as normal, and worked on step six of their plan. He’d allowed them to stay stationary and sedentary for long enough to recuperate from the first leg of the trip and reconsider their decision. Prompto didn’t seem to regret following him. He knew  _ he _ didn’t regret leaving. That meant that it was time for them to move on and try to get somewhere where they could make enough money to leave the country, and maybe even meet someone willing to forge travel documents for them.

Given the talk he’d heard since they arrived, from Wiz and passerby and even a few hunters, Lestallum might be his best bet. It was the biggest city in Lucis aside from Insomnia, and if anywhere was going to have new clothes, a decent weapons shop, and maybe even a shady document forger, it would be Lestallum. The only issue was that they were going to have to pay for lodging in Lestallum because he was pretty sure there wouldn’t be a haven close enough for them to run back and forth too many times.

Which meant it was time to double down on earning money.

They’d amassed enough at this point that they could probably afford a few nights in a hotel, but that would mean more or less draining their funds if hotels were anywhere near as expensive in Lestallum as they were in Insomnia. Keeping himself in a room for a week about a year ago had been costly as hell, and he didn’t have near as much money to throw around out here as he did in the Crown City.

And that estimate of almost draining their funds wasn’t even including the potential cost of renting two chocobos to get to Lestallum in the first place.

He’d have to work out a budget and, as he thought, double down on earning money.

There was another behemoth hunt in the area―a behemoth tyrant. They wouldn’t be able to do the same to it that they’d done to Deadeye, as it had both eyes, but Prompto could make the shot regardless, if he was given a better gun. Wiz said the reward was upwards of 15,000 gil, so it was more than worth the effort to get them set up good for the move to Lestallum.

Of course, they’d also been told that the Behemoth tyrant was likely to absolutely wreck them, though not in so many words. It was bigger and stronger than Deadeye, but Deadeye was bolder and more likely to leave the Nebulawood to hunt. It would probably be taking over his old stomping grounds in the Nebulawood soon enough, and it might very well grow bold enough to venture out and begin hunting the nearby chocobo.

Noctis figured it was still worth a shot for the money.

He and Prompto made the trek back to the chocobo outpost early in the morning and discussed the hunt a little with Wiz. Given their victory yesterday, Noctis would admit they were perhaps a bit too confident in their ability to do more or less the same thing to the tyrant that they’d done to Deadeye, but who could blame him? He felt good today. Naturally, he fought better when he wasn’t constantly nauseated, and the difference in his personality and physical movements was so obvious even Wiz saw it.

He questioned it, of course, and Noctis made an off-handed excuse about having been sick the past week or so after getting soaked to the bone falling in a lake earlier in his and Prompto’s ‘roadtrip’. The fever had finally broke, though, and he felt great!

That particular excuse had Wiz commenting, under his breath, that he didn’t doubt the two of them could take on the tyrant if Noctis had been  _ sick _ when they’d taken out Deadeye.

After that, it was a matter of talking to a couple of hunters hanging around the outpost and managing to trade one of his very expensive trinkets for a rifle and an old heirloom necklace for a box of the appropriate ammunition. He presented Prompto with the items, and the blond’s visible delight was immediately contagious. He scarcely processed the gun as being his before he was on his feet and throwing his arms around Noctis’ neck and excitedly rambling about the exact details of it. He was most delighted, Noctis thought, by the fact that it had a scope and was, unlike his pistols, semi-automatic.

He gushed about it for a solid five minutes before Noctis managed to get him to agree to go hunt the behemoth tyrant with him in order to test it out.

Seeing Prompto giddy about a hunt was odd, to say the least, but Noctis wasn’t going to complain. He liked it when Prompto got excited about things. It really helped Noctis stay excited, personally, because Prompto was always so wholehearted and… Listen the point was Prompto was a great morale booster.

They stalked the tyrant the same way that they’d stalked Deadeye, once they found it. When they reached the place where they’d felled the other behemoth yesterday, they were both a little disgusted (though relieved) to see that the tyrant seemed to be eating what was left of Deadeye. As long as the tyrant had easy access to food it wasn’t an issue to the chocobos, but regrettably it wouldn’t stay that way. It was best if they felled it now.

Noctis observed the area before them and wondered if they could pull off shooting it from the same rocky shelf they’d shot Deadeye from. And would the higher caliber of the rifle make it a shorter hunt? Surely a 7.62 as opposed to a .22 would make a difference. If Prompto had managed to at least severely incapacitate Deadeye with a .22 caliber pistol round from fifteen feet away, a 7.62 from a semi-automatic rifle from the same distance  _ should _ do a considerably larger amount of damage.

Sure, it still might not be a single-shot hunt, but Noctis wouldn’t have to expend too much magic and Prompto could probably  _ actually _ completely down the beast.

Noctis nudged Prom and motioned toward the area in question. Prompto nodded and clung to him while he point-warped back up there.

It was a tragically short hunt after that, really.

As Noctis expected, a 7.62 did significantly more damage from fifteen feet away than a .22 did. Two quick shots had the behemoth collapsing and slumping uselessly to the ground. Apparently one of the shots killed it, but neither he nor Prompto would ever know which one it actually was. They just knew that after the tyrant slumped to the ground, it didn’t keep breathing.

They warped down, investigated a little, and ultimately found that it was indeed dead, and they could get at both of its horns.

So Noctis handed Prompto his spear and got out his sword, and they started hacking.

When both of them came free at last, Noctis decided not to try and balance them both and instead dropped them into the Armiger. They took up a considerable amount of room, along with all of the meat that was in there, but he could deal with them later. Then, it was a matter of figuring out what he could bring back as proof they’d downed it. It wasn’t like he could drop the horns out of the Armiger and not get questions on how he was using royal magic like that.

“We could, like…” Prompto began after a moment, “Take a picture? I mean I’ve  _ got _ a camera, so…”

“Good idea,” Noctis admitted, “Would you mind?”

That got another grin from Prompto, just as radiant as the one he’d given when Noctis handed him the rifle and the ammo box.

He snapped a picture, and the flash almost blinded Noctis, but that was more his fault than Prompto’s. He knew how bright the flash on that camera was, and he  _ still _ kept his eyes open if he was within range when Prompto had to use it. That was just a matter of him being an idiot.

After that, they headed back to the post and Prompto spent the entire walk flapping his photo of their kill to develop it. Both of them knew he didn’t have to flap it that much, but Noctis was pretty sure it was just how Prompto was channeling his leftover energy now that the hunt was over.

Noctis realized he’d really preferred the other kinds of hunts they’d been taking. Big prey like behemoths were really kind of boring to hunt if you didn’t want to get up close and personal with them, and since getting up close and personal with them was a bad idea… Yeah, it was boring to hunt them. There was a flood of adrenaline for it, no doubt, but it wasn’t the same as getting into it with a herd of Voretooths and spending the entire hunt more or less completely engaged.

Fights with groups of small prey were definitely a little more his speed. He’d been trained to  _ fight, _ not to assassinate.

Regardless, when they arrived back they were rewarded handsomely, especially when they made note of the fact that both behemoths were in the same place and that they’d make some pretty great stocks of meat. Wiz rewarded them in gil, as they expected, but also a trinket they intended to sell off when they got to Lestallum.

It felt weird to be leaving, if Noctis was honest, but they couldn’t afford to spent a whole lot more time meandering around in Duscae, hunting monsters. They needed to count up their current funds and make plans for what to do once they got to Lestallum. There’d probably be more hunts to take on from people up that way, so they’d be able to at least try to keep a living wage going, but the real issue was making sure that they would be thriving and not just surviving as they were now. They needed to have a lot of extra cash if they were going to try and get someone to forge travel papers for them.

Which reminded Noctis that they needed to come up with new names. Just something they could use when they needed to travel.

He brought it up, quietly, to Prompto while they were hanging out with the adolescent chocobos to unwind after the hunt.

“Cyril,” Prompto decided immediately. “That’s what I want mine to be.”

Noctis was a little surprised at how fast he came up with it, but he wasn’t going to complain. The quicker they had an idea of what names they could use, the better.

“That’ll work,” He said, “I think I’ll use Vel. We’ll have to come up with last names later.”

Prompto just nodded his agreement.

And later that day, when it was nearing nightfall, Noctis discussed renting a couple of chocobos with Wiz, who told him price would depend entirely on how long he wanted to rent them for, but it was 50 gil per day. Noctis made note of it, and he and Prompto headed back to their haven for one last night. He’d work on procuring the chocobos and a map tomorrow morning, and then they’d leave for Lestallum.


	11. To Lestallum

Noctis decided to rent the chocobos for a week, and he and Wiz may or may not have briefly discussed him coming back to pick up some chocobo chicks to raise them when he and Prompto ‘finished their roadtrip’. Wiz fully endorsed it―he thought having more than one place where chocobo were bred and raised would be highly beneficial for the species. When Noctis wondered, out loud, not really meaning to, if chocobos would be comfortable in Tenebrae, Wiz all but jumped on the idea. He thought it would be just wonderful if they could get some chocobos to Tenebrae at some point, but he made a point of saying he didn’t expect Noctis to do it. He was just excited at the possibility of spreading chocobos’ habitats out across the world like it was meant to be.

Of course, a lot of Wiz’s willingness to let Noctis and Prompto make off with some of the babies was because they’d spent the week they were here eliminating threats to his chocobos and yesterday after the tyrant hunt they’d tracked down a wild black chocobo for him and brought her egg back. They’d helped him a lot just trying to make money and he felt they were good people.

Noctis was just glad to have helped, honestly, but starting a chocobo farm with Prompto in Tenebrae seemed… He liked that idea. It gave him something of a goal and that was more concrete than anything else he had right now.

“You know,” Wiz said, as they were saddling up the chocobos they’d rented and Prompto was humming to himself, blissfully unaware of anything but his current task, “I don’t think I ever actually caught either of your names―just the nicknames you threw at each other.”

“I’m Cyril,” Prompto chirped, without hesitation, and Noctis had to remind himself that Prompto  _ wasn’t _ oblivious even when he was focused on something.

“Vel,” Noctis said, and even if the name felt foreign on his tongue he figured that was normal.

“Cyril and Vel,” Wiz mused, slowly nodding, “Thought I heard one you call Vel ‘Noct’ the other day, though, Cyril.”

Prompto just laughed, waving it off, “Old inside joke―my mom used to say he looked like King Regis, so since he’s about the same age as prince Noctis…”

That made Wiz laugh and Noctis, who had temporarily frozen, laughed along. Thank the Six Prompto could think on his feet like that. Wiz knowing them as their real names could set things back significantly. He was a good guy but Noctis didn’t doubt he’d start asking questions if he knew who Noctis was, and any excuse Noctis gave him could easily be disproven when the search for he and Prompto eventually extended past the bounds of the Crown City. He didn’t want to put Wiz in that situation, and hopefully by the time they came through the chocobo post looking for him, Wiz would have forgotten his face enough to at least make him hesitate on believing he’d seen the heir apparent to the Lucian throne running away with his common-born best friend.

They finished saddling up, and with a couple last farewells to the folks around the outpost they were off. Noctis had managed to find a map someone was willing to part with, so after ascertaining the location of the outpost he was able to plot the quickest route to Lestallum. He kept the map in hand as they rode, and Prompto excitedly gushed the whole time. He eventually devolved into whistling and singing, and by the time they got to Lestallum he was humming. He probably would have continued talking if not for Noctis’ concentration on getting them to Lestallum. But he still filled the three hour trip with all the noise he could and Noctis had to admit he was grateful. The times that Prompto had been silent on this ‘adventure’ had been the worst parts, really. It just wasn’t right for Prompto to not be filling the silence with idle chatter or some other noise.

Arriving in Lestallum was a fairly quiet affair, nonetheless, because Prompto was too busy staring at the city to say much. He was obviously intrigued by what he saw, and Noctis couldn’t blame him. It was the biggest city in Lucis besides Insomnia, and it was… Not at all like Insomnia. There was something inexplicably different about it and if he was honest? He loved it. He already loved it.

The people were plenty friendly, as well, which was a plus.

They ran into someone immediately upon dismounting their chocobos who was happy to tell them about the Leville, Lestallum’s hotel. They were also happy to point out the nearest shop where they could sell off some of their trinkets for extra cash was. Noctis thanked them profusely, and he and Prompto made their way to the Leville.

The receptionist was nice, and fairly accommodating. Their chocobos were allowed to sort of roam around outside and it was strongly implied that if anyone tried to make off with them the receptionist would kick up a fuss for them. Noctis appreciated that. He also appreciated that it wasn’t going to break them to stay for a few nights, even if it was sort of expensive.

He left Prompto to get them settled in―they’d agreed on a single room with one bed to save money, and even if that had gotten raised brows from the receptionist Noctis wasn’t bothered. He’d really just shrugged and told him that since they’d been sharing a tent since they started their roadtrip they might as well share a bed. Regardless, Prompto was in charge of sorting their supplies out while Noctis took their ‘camp’ bag in order to sell off some of their trinkets. And if he had to pull some sleight of hand to sell their three behemoth horns, well, he had to pull some sleight of hand to sell them.

Those were his biggest priorities when it came to selling today. He needed to get rid of them so they’d stop taking up room in his Armiger.

He was able to sell all three of them, thankfully, and the shopkeep was so impressed by the horns that he was  _ also _ able to trade a few trinkets for several potions and one phoenix down. This was a matter of luck, of course, considering the shopkeep hadn’t been eager to trade prior to that, probably thinking that Noctis wouldn’t have anything worthwhile. He did, after all, come up to the shop in torn mud-stained jeans and a jacket that had seen much better days.

With the behemoth horns no longer taking up space in the Armiger and a couple of thousand extra gil in his pockets, he slipped into the more shady looking parts of town.

Would he actually be able to find a document forger here? He didn’t know. But he intended to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About the mention of the black chocobo egg - I'm aware you have to track the black chocobo down and get her egg from the Vesperpool in-game, but I figured since we're about four years early on everything... I thought maybe it would make more sense for it to be fairly closeby. So even if it doesn't matter very much, they got the egg from the Malacchi Hills in this universe.  
> Makes sense, right? It's an AU after all. It's just a different egg lol


	12. To Find A Forger

Lurking around in one of the shady back alleys for about an hour, Noctis eventually got to talking with an shady passerby.

“What’s got a kid like you in a place like this?” They asked, voice hushed, and their eyes flickered around.

“Lookin’ for somebody,” Noctis replied, somewhat gruff, keeping his voice about an octave lower than usual for good measure.

The stranger looked around again and sidled closer. Noctis kept his hands in his pockets, but he stayed ready to flick his wrist and have his sword at the stranger’s neck. Just in case. You could never be too careful when you were trying to do something illegal. Too many variables.

“What ya needin’?” They asked, and he knew that they knew he was here for something illegal now.

“Travel documents.” He inclined himself closer, and flicked his eyes around once just to be sure they were alone. “For me n’ a friend.”

“I may know somebody,” Said the stranger, nodding sagely, “You’ll find him out back a’ the Coernix station. Tell ‘im Star-Eyes sent ya.”

Noctis nodded and slipped them a couple hundred gil. “I wasn’t here,”

“Sure weren’t.” Star-Eyes confirmed, and both of them went their separate ways.

He headed back to the Leville before anything else. He dropped the camp bag onto the foot of the bed and watched Prompto waving a photo for a moment before he bothered to try and say anything. He expected Prompto to greet him, but the blond seemed to be waiting.

“We need to figure out last names,” He told the blond, in lieu of a greeting, and Prompto nodded.

“Thought you might say that,” He said, “I’ve been thinkin’ Maursus for mine.”

“Cyril Maursus.” Noctis tested the name on his tongue.

It sounded natural, didn’t sound made-up, exactly. That was good. Having assumed names that sounded like a real person’s name was always a good thing―less suspicious when someone tried the name out for the first time. Names that just didn’t sound real were often an indicator of fake documents, and they were a rookie mistake.

He nodded to himself, “I like it,” He told Prompto, “Sounds natural.”

“I know!” Prompto beamed, “I thought of a couple others, but neither of them sounded right with Cyril.”

“Either of them sound good with Vel?” Noctis quirked a brow, smiling.

“Well if the name is _just_ Vel and Vel isn’t short for something, I think that Sveso would sound good.” Prompto replied, almost instantly.

“You’ve been putting a lot of thought into this,” The prince supposed, but tested the name under his breath nonetheless.

Vel Sveso _did_ sound fairly natural, for Vel already being an odd-sounding name. Giving it a weird last name just… Fit.

“Any ideas for middle names? I’m sure it’s going to get asked.”

So they spent the next twenty minutes picking out middle names for themselves, and Noctis was able to get Prompto to part with a selfie and a picture of him to use on the documents. The sooner that he could get to their potential document forger, the better. The last thing they needed was to waste time―it had been nine days since they’d fled Insomnia, and if Noctis wasn’t found in the city by the end of this second week, in _five days,_ his dad would panic and the search would extend out into the rest of the country. And, sure, it’d take them a good week or so to search the Leide region _alone,_ but he needed to be gone before they could finish.

He slid the photos into his jacket pocket and re-counted the money they had. If he was lucky, what they’d gotten from the behemoth horns should cover most, if not all, of the cost, and they’d still have enough left over to try and make it to Galdin Quay and onto a ferry.

Without really explaining where he was going, he ducked back out of the hotel and headed to the Coernix station.

There were plenty of folks milling around, but there was only one person behind it.

He looked just as shady as Star-Eyes had, so Noctis figured this was probably his man. He approached as casually as he could, passing into the mild darkness behind the station and sidling up to him.

“What do you want?” The man asked, gruffly.

“Star-Eyes sent me.” Noctis replied, just as gruff, “Need some travel documents.”

"Just you?"

"Me and a friend."

“3,000 gil.” Said the man.

“How much for me not to have ever been to see you?” Noctis asked, but he was relieved. That was significantly less than he’d been banking on.

“4,000.” The man amended, “Total.”

Nodding, Noctis forked over 2,000. “I’ll give ya the other half when they’re done.”

The man nodded as well, pleased with this. “We can discuss details later. Meet me out front of the Leville in the morning, 10 AM.”

“I’ll be there.”


	13. Forged, Ready

The meeting in the morning went over fairly well. He and Prompto had the night to think over the more intimate details of their make-believe lives, using Prompto’s actual documents for reference of what they actually needed. No use coming up with a full backstory right now if they didn’t need to, and coming up with just the basics was worlds easier, anyway. By morning Noctis had a functional pile of answers to give their man.

He seemed to appreciate that they had their story straight, and appreciated them having useable pictures even more.

“It’ll take a few days to get everything in order,” The man, who called himself Illusionist, said. “But you’ll have your docs by the end of the week… _Vel.”_

“I appreciate it.”

They went their separate ways and Noctis explained the situation to Prompto in hushed tones while they went to look for any jobs they could do in the meantime. They wanted to have as much money as possible for when they left. Considering they would probably need to pay Wiz for the chocobos (Prompto didn’t hide his surprise that Noctis actually wanted to take a couple) and probably pay to be allowed to have the chicks on the ferry to Tenebrae, they’d need as much extra as they could get. No doubt they could make a killing once they _got_ to Tenebrae by continuing to hunt down monsters and keep people safe, but that wasn’t the important thing right now.

What was important was getting to Tenebrae in the first place.

They took on a few hunts over the next few days, and Noctis made sure to go after some smaller prey for the most part. He preferred hoards of smaller prey to one very large monster, but considering they had potions and phoenix down and Noctis was no longer nauseous all the time, he had a lot more fun with the large monsters than he’d had with either behemoth. He wasn’t worried about getting up close and personal with most of it. As long as they made enough money and did well enough in the hunts to not have to use too many potions…

And, for the most part, they did pretty well.

All those self-defense classes with Gladio had done Prompto a real world of good.

But aside from hunts, their days tended to consist of grooming their chocobos and discussing what they might do what they got to Tenebrae. Prompto thought that they should try to stay away from any major cities so as not to be too easy to find. Noctis agreed, for the most part, but also pointed out that being the only people in the country with chocobo chicks was going to draw attention _anyway._

“... Why not go see Lady Lunafreya?” Prompto eventually suggested, looking up from a pile of photos he’d gotten on the hunt earlier that day. “I mean, if anyone would be able to give us advice on what to do, it’d probably be her.”

Noctis paused, setting the item he was examining to see if it could make him any money down on the edge of the bed. It wasn’t a bad idea, really. He trusted Luna implicitly despite only meeting her in person once, and she was sure to have a good idea for what they could do, but the thing was that of all people in the world outside of Insomnia, she was the one his father seemed to have the most contact with. He didn’t think she would willingly rat him out, but her brother, Ravus, wasn’t exactly his biggest fan, and if anyone could force Luna’s hand it was Ravus. And if he didn’t sell Noctis out to _Regis,_ he’d sell him out to the Empire.

But, then again, maybe being sold out to the Empire wouldn’t be so bad. Prompto could tell them _all_ about that night and the ‘serum’ and Noctis could tell them all about Lucis’ national security and they’d be kept alive until Noct could knock out a platoon of their MTs. At least he could just kill them and run―he couldn’t attack glaives and Crownsguard. He was a traitor to his kingdom for running and sheltering the one who’d gotten him to turn traitor, but he wouldn’t be a murderer of his own people. At least the MTs were rumored to not even be human in the first place.

He wouldn’t necessarily mind.

Still, he’d have to put some serious thought into going to Luna.

“You’re not wrong,” He told Prompto, “But I’ll have to think about it… Weigh the risk, y’know? If her brother is there…”

Prompto winced, “I forgot Ravus existed, for a minute there.”

“You were so caught up in the joy of having chocobos that for a second you lived in a world where Ravus didn’t exist.” Noctis snickered, and Prompto descended into giggles.

Chuckling a little, Noctis resumed his examination of the trinkets they’d brought back from the hunt.

They spent the day after that running around the town, examining every store they could for new clothes and occasionally managing to sell off particularly pretty pieces of jewelry to knowledgeable buyers who could understand the exact value of the pieces they bought. Noctis was just glad to be rid of most of it, if he was honest. If he didn’t need as much gil as he could possibly get his hands on he wouldn’t have waited to sell them to someone who’d give him a fair deal―he’d have just hocked them to the first shopkeep who wanted them and made an offer.

Regardless, they ended up with enough new clothes to be able to justify donating or selling the old items and eventually made enough money off selling the old items that it was like they hadn’t spent the money to buy new clothes in the first place. Noctis somewhat looked forward to doing that again when they got to Tenebrae―selling his clothes and getting new ones. It would just feel more permanent that way, he guessed, and as anxious as it made him it excited the hell out of him at the same time. He was eager to be gone.

They ended up spending more money than Noctis particularly wanted to on various combat-related items like potions and antidotes, but he couldn’t deny it was important that they did so. They needed to keep as many curatives on hand as they possibly could, after all.

The amount of gil they spent on food and ingredients was thankfully considerably less than what they spent on pretty much anything else. The meat in the Armiger wouldn’t go bad as long as it was in there, which made it a convenient place to store it until they were on the road again, so they mostly ate cup ramen from the truck on the main road, and occasionally some fresh fruit or vegetables from the produce shop. They also stocked the Armiger with spices to use on their meats.

It was Noctis’ genius idea to get a small grill to take with them, and Prompto fully backed it up, so they made the effort to get extra money to do that.

On the final day of their stay in Lestallum, it was the day they would have to return the chocobos to Wiz _and_ the day that his father officially announced the search for him over the radio. Thankfully, it was _also_ the day that Illusionist finished their travel papers. Noctis was preparing to leave the Leville to return the chocobos, and Prompto was on his heels, and Illusionist was meandering outside the Leville.

Noctis motioned for Prompto to stay behind him and casually approached the man.

“Mr. Sveso.” Illusionist greeted smoothly, “I’ve got the papers if you’ve got the money.”

He produced a folder and offered it to Noctis, who was surprised his relief didn’t make him faint on the spot. Thank the Six. They were done.

He dug the pre-arranged sum of 2,000 gil out of his pocket.

The exchange went smoothly, and Illusionist stuck around until Noctis had perused the documents and found them to be to his liking. With a nod, Noctis returned to Prompto and Illusionist disappeared into the early-morning crowd heading to work.

“The papers?” Prompto asked, hopefully.

“The papers,” Noctis confirmed, and Prompto nearly jumped for joy.

They saddled up their chocobos and set about heading back down to Wiz’s outpost. If they were lucky maybe they could catch a ride with a hunter at least closer to where they were headed. Maybe somebody would be headed for the Fallgrove, if not all the way to Galdin Quay.

They’d just have to pray, because Noctis wasn’t keen to spend any more money than he absolutely had to, and having to pay for someone to get them down to the Quay wouldn’t exactly _ruin_ their budget, but it’d throw things off. Walking took too long and put the chicks in danger every night, especially if they couldn’t find a haven before nightfall. Riding the chocobos they currently had to the Quay was out of the question for a lot of reasons, one of which being that that would leave them to have to find their way back to the ranch all by themselves. He didn’t doubt they could, but he still didn’t want to make them do that.

Arriving back at the ranch, Wiz greeted them happily and, strangely, immediately offered them lunch.

“Well, heard a radio broadcast this mornin’,” Said Wiz as he offered them sandwiches, “‘Bout the prince being missing.”

Noctis stomach dropped immediately.

“I figure, least I can do is offer ya some food before ya head out―if you look as much like the prince as Cyril’s mom thinks ya do, you’ll get mistaken for Noct a lot in the comin’ days. You’ll need strength to deal with that.”

Noctis stared at him for a second, then laughed a bit. “I appreciate it―we actually decided to extend our trip, you know that?” He politely accepted the sandwich that Wiz pushed his way, “Cyril just turned 18 so we decided we were gonna go see the Oracle at her manor since both of us are old enough to leave the country alone now.”

Not true, of course. Not even on their travel documents―the people at the Quay wouldn’t question two 17 year olds going to Tenebrae to see the Oracle, especially since both of them were only months shy of being adults. They might raise questions in a couple of months if they hadn’t come back, but that wouldn’t hurt anyone. It would just be one or two people wondering and it wouldn’t ever go anywhere.

“You sly little devils,” Wiz said, laughing, “You’re gonna go start that Tenebrae chocobo farm.”

Grinning, Noctis ducked his head, “Something like that, yeah.”

And Wiz shook his head while Noctis and Prompto grinned and Noctis, on the fly, explained that he was going to see if they could get some land, and maybe some help from Lady Lunafreya.

“We’ve been saving up money for land, but it’s gonna be close. We figure if nothing else Lady Lunafreya can convince people to help us out so the chocobos can grow up strong. If anybody wants chocobos to prosper…” He trailed.

Wiz nodded his agreement, “‘Course it’d be Lady Lunafreya.”

They spoke for a while longer before Wiz pulled them aside to negotiate which chicks they’d take with them. In the end, they decided on five of them―two little yellow chicks, two white ones, and a single ruby one that refused to leave Prompto alone. In total, Wiz didn’t charge them very much and even gave them feed and two transport crates for free. And then, to Noctis’ total shock, told them they oughta go ahead and take the two adult chocobos they’d rented.

Noctis objected to taking them for free, though he didn’t question why Wiz thought they should take them. Obviously they couldn’t raise the chicks alone. They’d need good role models and adult chocobos were all rather parental with chicks regardless of whose chicks they actually were.

He may have bullied Wiz into taking money for he and Prompto taking the adults, and Wiz just laughed when Noctis shoved the gil into his hands. He didn’t object, he just didn’t get a choice but to take it, anyway.

Wiz bade them goodbye when they eventually did pack up the chicks into their crates and carefully situate them on Prompto’s lap on the back of his chocobo, and they returned the goodbye. Before they managed to leave, though, Camilla (who ran the chocobo salon where one could change the color of their chocobo) came over to gift them a small kit that would allow them to learn how to dye chocobos naturally. Prompto thanked her perhaps more excitedly than Noctis, but who could blame him? The guy just really loved chocobos, and Noctis was just happy that he was happy.

With Camilla out of the way and Prompto eagerly holding onto the crate in his lap with one arm and the reins with the other, Noctis took the other crate and secured it in his own lap. And then they set out for the Quay.


	14. Missing Prince

“I really don’t know where he could have possibly gone,” Ignis said, wringing his hands, pacing. “And for him to have locked you and I out of the Armiger―you don’t think he’s…”

“He’s not dead.” Gladio said, gruff and annoyed, from the couch.

The two of them were more or less removed from duty for the time being. There wasn’t anything to do except sit in the prince’s room and wait for him to come back, although if Gladio was honest? He kind of understood why Noct wasn’t here. With all the things he’d learned in the two weeks since the prince dipped out after that fight with King Regis… Frankly, the only reason he hadn’t started in on Ignis about  _ lying _ to him yet was the fact that he was too worried about Noct to want to waste his energy on kicking Ignis’ ass. And Ignis was just as worried as he was.

Even if he was a lying bastard.

Since fucking when did loyalty to the king outrank loyalty to  _ Noctis? _

Ugh.

“How can you be so sure?” Ignis asked him, usually collected voice stressed and strained. “It’s been  _ two weeks, _ Gladio!”

“This is  _ Noctis.” _ Gladio replied, annoyed, “And unlike you and the king, I actually  _ have _ some faith in our prince.”

Ignis winced, and fell oddly silent. Gladio didn’t look at him.

There was a long silence between them, and Gladio kept his eyes focused on the ceiling above his head. There was no point in watching Ignis return to his pacing and fretting. If anything, it’d just make him angrier to focus too much on Ignis.

It had been two weeks since Noct disappeared and took Prompto with him, and apparently used Gladio as an alibi in the process. As time went on, though his worry for the two young idiots didn’t lessen in the slightest, he was finding himself more and more angry at everyone else in the Citadel. Even his own  _ father _ had known what they were doing to Prompto, and they’d been hiding it from exactly two people―from him and from the prince.

It was no wonder that Noct got into a shouting match with Regis took off when Prompto told him. If anyone out there was more protective of someone than Gladio was of Noctis, it was Noctis about Prompto. He loved that boy to death and Gladio knew very well he’d do anything in his power to keep him safe. If he’d gotten even the slightest inkling of a feeling that keeping Prompto here after the fight with Regis would put him in danger, the slightest feeling that Regis wouldn’t stop the tests even if he didn’t punish Prompto for telling him…

Yeah. He wasn’t surprised they’d bailed.

He wished he knew where they were, sure, but he understood. And he understood why they’d left their phones here. Noctis and Prompto were airheads sometimes, but they weren’t  _ stupid. _ They’d know they could be tracked down with their phones, Noctis especially. It was how he’d gotten caught after running off six straight times in a row until the  _ last _ time, when he’d left his phone on his bed and hadn’t gotten caught until he was ready to come back and get grounded.

He’d only ever been gone for a maximum of a week before now. Last time he’d told Gladio that he only came back because staying in a hotel was too expensive to keep doing. It made him laugh, then, but now he was pretty sure the prince had been serious.

It occurred to him, not for the first time, that Noctis had been trying to run away after fights with Regis ever since the engagement to Lunafreya was announced.

He’d bet money that himself, Prompto, and Ignis, and the fact that he’d never make it past the Wall were the only things that kept Noctis in the city for as long as he stayed.

“... I don’t suppose me being sorry that I never told you will assuage your anger at all.” Ignis finally supposed, softly.

“Nope.” Gladio replied, still staring a the ceiling. “You know Prom’s terrified of needles, Ignis. Sorry doesn’t change that you knew and you didn’t do anything to stop it or try to tell me or Noct.”

“What do you suggest I have done, exactly?” Ignis sounded a little angry, himself, “Tell the king that he wasn’t allowed to do that?”

“Tell Noct.” Gladio snorted derisively, “And let  _ him _ kick off in his dad’s ass about it. You know that’s the only reason he stopped, anyway.”

“Gladio…”

“Don’t ‘Gladio’ me.” He snapped back, “You had plenty of chances to tell me or Noct. You didn’t. That’s on you.”

“The King may have had me killed or imprisoned for  _ treason.” _

“And Noct would have staged a coup as a result. You  _ know  _ him, Ignis. He wouldn’t have taken that sitting down. He’d have  _ done _ something. You being a fucking  _ coward _ doesn’t excuse this any more than being sorry does.”

“I admit I was being a coward by not telling you, but I really didn’t feel that I had another  _ choice. _ Your father made it fairly clear that telling you or Noctis was off the table the moment they involved Prompto in the experiments.” He could tell, without looking, that Ignis was rubbing his temples. He just  _ knew. _ “It was a bad decision to listen and I regret it immensely, but I thought… I thought maybe Prompto wasn’t going to be in any real danger, and even if he was upset and scared he never told me that he felt he was in  _ danger, _ Gladio. Not until the last time.”

“He  _ told _ you he felt like he was in danger and you didn’t  _ do  _ anything?” His eyes snapped down to Ignis, who looked significantly more distressed than Gladio had ever seen him.

“I spent every day he was in Noctis’ room fighting a losing battle against your father to convince Regis to stop the experiments.” Ignis snapped immediately, “When I came to talk with you before Noctis went to Regis that night, I… I had come to tell Prompto I’d convinced your father to  _ try. _ It doesn’t excuse that I let it happen for so long,  _ obviously, _ but you do  _ not _ get to sit here and berate me for not doing anything! I  _ tried _ as soon as Prompto indicated any undue distress.”

“Undue distress.” Gladio snorted, looking back at the ceiling, “I don’t think any of his distress was  _ undue, _ Ignis.”

“Perhaps not, and perhaps I can see that now, but I didn’t at the time.”

Gladio didn’t reply, and Ignis heaved a sigh in response to his silence.

It was quiet again.

That they’d more or less rehashed this fight for  _ days _ before this made Gladio wish Noctis would just come back, or that he could get away with popping Ignis a good one. Even with the new information on the subject he hadn’t gotten on previous days, he wasn’t seeing Ignis in a particularly positive light at the moment. He probably wouldn’t forgive the man until Noctis did, if he was honest, and he didn’t know when that would be.

He frowned deeper, staring at the ceiling with more intensity, as if he could find the answers in the plaster above him.

He found nothing, and it frustrated him beyond anything he could ever remember feeling before now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand we hit 100K for the year! Just in time, too, because it's 11:30 where I live.
> 
> Don't worry! Hitting 100K for 2019 doesn't mean the story is done! It's got a while to go, even if I did initially plan for it to be about this long - but that would have been a lot of stuff to pack into roughly 30K lol


	15. Camp

They stopped that night at the haven near the Fallgrove. It’d still be another few hours to the Quay in the morning, but it would be better to stop here than trying to get as far as they could tonight and not being able to find another Haven.

They popped the lids off of the crates so that the chicks could get the much-needed nighttime air, but made sure to keep them close enough to the fire to gain the benefits of its heat. Prompto delegated himself as the chocobo feeder as soon as the lids came off, of course. He spent most of his time while Noctis set up camp coaxing the worried little chicks into eating and then playing with them to sooth their nerves.

Noctis didn’t mind―Prompto didn’t know the first thing about pitching a tent or starting a fire, and especially wasn’t gifted in cooking anything more advanced than spaghetti, so him finding something to do that was relatively free of risks or accidents was a blessing. Especially since it was something he enjoyed doing and wouldn’t need any intervention from Noctis for. It let Noctis spend the time thinking, and planning their next move.

Ignis would be proud of the amount of thought he was actually putting into this.

But thinking about Ignis made his stomach twist. He still couldn’t wrap his head around why he wouldn’t  _ tell _ him. And for him to have let this go on for so long…

Still, he couldn’t form much more of an opinion on it without all of the details, and while he was unbelievably angry at Ignis, he didn’t want to hate him over this unless it was very well founded. He didn’t want to end up hating one of his brothers over a lack of information.

It made him angrier to think for a second that Ignis had held back from telling him for that reason exactly―Noctis hating him but not having the full story. How thoughtless did Ignis think he was?

It was hard telling, and Noctis figured he ought to stop thinking about it before he went and made himself angrier.

… But while he was on the subject, and Prompto seemed in a good mood, he  _ had  _ to know something.

“Hey, Prom?” He began, waiting for the blond to look up at him. “Are you up for answering a question about that shitfest we ran from?”

“Depends on what the question is,” Prompto replied, looking somewhat wary.

“Well, you don’t have to answer if you’re not up for it,” Noctis made sure to tell him, because he didn’t want him any more uncomfortable than he had to be, “But are you… Are you angry with Ignis for not doing anything to stop it?”

Prompto’s face fell, and he quickly returned his attention to the chocobos.

Noctis winced, but took that as an indication Prompto didn’t want to answer that. That was okay. Now that his curiosity about it was out in the open, when Prompto felt up to talking about it he knew what Noctis would want to hear first.

He turned back to the food and tried to put the subject out of his mind for good this time. At least for tonight.

“... Kind of.” Prompto’s voice came, after a few moments.

It took Noctis a second to understand his question was being answered.

“Like,” Prompto paused, sounding a little frustrated, “I’m angry that he didn’t try to stop it. I’m angry that he knew I hated needles but he let it happen anyway. I’m angry that he didn’t stay with me to give moral support and just waited outside until the scientists sent me home.”

Yeah, that all sounded fair.

Noctis waited, just in case Prompto wasn’t done.

He wasn’t.

“But, I… Like, I  _ understand, _ you know?” The blond sighed heavily,  _ angrily, _ “I understand why he didn’t try to do anything. He was following orders and if he didn’t something bad might happen. If he told you and anyone found out, he was as good as dead. I understand, because I didn’t tell you  _ either, _ and it’d be hypocritical to be angry that he didn’t. And, that last time, I… He came to get me, and I told him  _ everything _ and he looked… Six, Noct, he was furious that they’d put me in that kind of danger. He had me sit down with him until I could walk straight and the whole time he was just  _ seething. _

“So, yeah, I’m mad at him for not doing anything. But I understand, and I don’t… I don’t necessarily hold it against him. It’s not his fault that we were too scared to tell you or Gladio. And I know he didn’t let it keep happening because he didn’t  _ care, _ because the moment I told him I felt I was in danger he― He looked like he was on a  _ warpath _ leaving me to walk to your room.”

A silence while Noctis sorted through that.

Yeah, it sounded fair.

And given the information he’d been provided, he was able to push the hate away so that he could let the anger run its course and fade off like it was supposed to.

But he still wouldn’t be contacting Ignis if he ever talked to anyone back in the Citadel. If he reached out to  _ anyone _ it’d be Gladio―he seemed to be the only one he  _ could _ trust. He hadn’t been involved. He hadn’t known much more than Noctis had and had assumed that Prompto was okay because Prompto didn’t say anything and neither did Ignis. He’d just have to hope that by the time he got ahold of a phone and got the courage to call his Shield, the man would be alone and would trust him enough not to tell anyone he’d contacted him.

“... Are  _ you _ mad at Ignis for not doing anything?” Prompto finally asked, and it made Noctis jump a little.

“Yeah.” He admitted, “But I understand, too. And if you aren’t holding it too harshly against him, I’m not going to either. You were the one getting hurt. Not my place to be livid at him if you’re not.”

That got a startled sort of laugh out of Prompto. “You trust my judgement that much?”

“Of course.”

Glancing at the blond, he saw his lips twitch up into a pleased-looking smile. He saw him mouth, silently,  _ ‘He trusts my judgement.’ _ He saw and he didn’t comment, and when Prompto looked at him, still smiling, he gave him a smile in return.

“You’re my best friend,” He said, watching Prompto’s smile widen in response, “I trust your skills and your opinions. Why wouldn’t I trust your judgement, too?”

“I guess I’m just not used to my opinions being valued very highly.” Prompto flushed a little in the light of the fire. “You’re my best friend too, though. You know that, right?”

“I know.” Noctis bit his lip for a second to keep from grinning too widely before abandoning the attempt, “But it’s still nice to be reminded.”

Prompto giggled, sounding a little giddy, and returned to playing with the chocobo chicks.

He only stopped once Noctis called him to eat, but by then the adult chocobos had wandered over and easily took over entertaining the little ones.

“So how are we getting on the ferry to Tenebrae and the train after that?” Prompto asked, curiously, after they’d eaten, “Surely they’re gonna ask questions.”

“We’re going to see the Oracle,” Noctis shrugged, “If they probe more than that we can say we’re seeking advice for healing someone we know.”

“But what about the chocobos?”

“A favor for Wiz in exchange for him letting us have the two we rode here on―we’re gonna try to get another chocobo ranch set up. We need to talk to the Oracle about that, too.”

Prompto nodded, seeming to accept that. “Okay, and after that?”

“After that, we go to Fenestala Manor and talk to Luna.” Noctis shrugged again, “I figure her advice is worth the risk of her brother selling us out.”

Prompto nodded to that as well, then snorted and ducked his head.

“What?” Noctis asked. “What’s so funny?”

Prompto only laughed in response, for a moment before saying, windedly, “I was so caught up in the joy of having chocobos that for a moment I lived in a world were Ravus didn’t exist.”

He descended back into snickers and Noct could only laugh and shake his head in disbelief. Of course that line would stick with Prompto.  _ Of course. _

He cleaned up their leftover food, still shaking his head and smiling, and soon enough he and Prompto were climbing into the thent to sleep. Prompto cracked a few jokes while they wound down from the day, and Noctis had a permanent smile on his face even when his ribs hurt from laughing.

“Dude,” He managed, breathless, “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Prompto replied, just as breathless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so now that I'm not in a mad dash to reach a wordcount, chapters are gonna slow down a little while I work on commissions/other fics, but I'll still try to get out chapters frequently. Might even keep uploading every day! Either way this is a fic I'm for sure gonna finish.


	16. Transport

They woke a little bit before sunrise, and Noctis wished that wasn’t such a common occurrence since leaving the city. Aside from a couple of isolated incidents where they slept into the late hours of morning, they tended to wake either just prior to or just after the sun began climbing into the sky.

Still, he wouldn’t argue that it was a boon to them to have woken up early today. Without an aching bad feeling telling him whether or not he was in danger, it was hard to know if his father had sent out search parties outside of the city yet, and since they were practically on the border of the Leide region and would spend most of the day riding the border… Well, no bad feeling didn’t necessarily mean that they wouldn’t get caught. It just meant he didn’t know for sure yet.

They weren’t an exact science or anything, after all. They had a bad habit of not popping up until it was so close to the bad thing happening that he had no time to prepare.

He and Prompto had the chicks fed and ready to finish the trip to Galdin Quay by the time the sun was rising, and five more minutes had their gear all packed up and the chocobos mounted.

Prompto, strangely, spent the entire trip mouthing something under his breath and nodding frequently.

Noctis didn’t question it, wasn’t sure he _wanted_ to know, and just focused on making sure that he didn’t call Prompto by his name for the entire trip. He _had_ to call him Cyril or one of the many chocobo-related nicknames he’d come up with over the years. It wouldn’t really be that hard, seeing as he hardly called him by his name as it was, but he couldn’t take chances.

They saw more and more cars the closer they got to the Quay, and Noctis got more and more concerned as time wore on. Was it possible his father would think to check the Quay before anywhere else? Would he send groups all the way across the kingdom to check each place at the same time? Was he going to walk right into a Crownsguard ambush at Galdin Quay?

His hands were tense on the reins and the edge of his chocobo crate.

A headache began to buzz between his temples and he forcefully unclenched his jaw so it would stop before it became something worse. The last thing he needed was a serious headache when they were about to have to board a ferry to Tenebrae. He’d be dealing with a big enough headache from the sudden influx of _people,_ thanks.

He pulled up the hood of his jacket and ducked his head as they got closer, and it was all he could do to hold back the building anxiety.

When they arrived, Prompto offered to feed the chicks again and keep an eye on their chocobos so Noctis could find whoever it was he needed to talk to about this.

“That works,” Noctis said, and he wasn’t even mad that he was still the one doing all the ‘official’ things for them.

He didn’t think life would feel _right_ if he wasn’t the one talking to officials and negotiating for illegal travel documents instead of Prompto, really. It was always his job or Ignis’ to worry about important stuff while Prompto and Gladio were supposed to worry about staying alive and occasionally talking to folks who weren’t necessarily _not_ important, but weren’t the ones who would be deciding where they’d stay or if they’d get what they were looking for.

He wandered down the pier and, thankfully, was able to find a ferry captain more or less waiting around. He knew he’d need to talk to the people at the desk about tickets, but talking directly to a captain was a guaranteed way to find out if they’d be able to take their chocobos at all.

“Howdy,” He greeted, all smiles.

“Ahoy there,” Said the captain, smiling in return, “What can I do for you?”

“Well, a friend and I are lookin’ to get to Tenebrae―problem is, we’re doin’ a favor for ol’ Wiz Forlane and takin’ some chocobo chicks and two adult chocobos with us.” He explained, faking a Leidan accent and hoping it didn’t sound _too_ fake, “And I figured it’d be best to ask a captain if takin’ ‘em would fly or if we’d need to find a different way over there.”

The captain stared for a second, then broke into a grin. “Well,” He said, jolly as could be, “I can’t say _every_ captain would be alright with it, but my ferry’s leaving in about an hour, and I’d be more than happy to let you and your birds come along.”

Relief built in Noctis’ stomach. “Well thank ya!” He breathed, finding himself grinning, “How much will I owe ya, friend?”

“Let’s say ten per chocobo,” Said the captain, and Noctis could have jumped for joy. He really could have.

70 gil to take the chocobos across on top of the ticket price was _not_ bad.

“Sounds more than fair t’ me.” Noct continued to grin, and he and captain talked a while longer before he went back to tell Prompto the deal.

“Alright,” He said, finding the blond feeding the little ones like he’d said he would, “First off, don’t be surprised when I pull out a bad Leidan accent when we get on the ferry.”

Prompto pressed his lips together to suppress a smile and raised a brow, but didn’t speak. He just waited.

“Second, the captain’s willing to let us bring the birds for ten gil each.”

Prompto gave a low whistle. “Only 70 gil to get them to Tenebrae?”

“Only 70 gil,” Noctis agreed, “We’ll have to talk to the train conductor about it once we get there or just try to ride them to Fenestala Manor, but getting them _to_ Tenebrae is… Cheaper than I expected. Captain seemed like he recognized Wiz’s name, though, so I think he may be doing it as a favor.”

“All the better for us.” Prompto snorted, “Is he gonna expect me to whip out a Leidan accent too, or…?”

“You don’t have to,” Noctis suppressed a smile just at the thought of Prompto trying to fake a Leidan accent. “I just figured I’d try to disguise my voice a bit.”

“You drifted toward being Leidan around Wiz, too.” Prompto pointed out after a moment, “It wasn’t super noticeable, but you definitely had the tinges of an accent in there.”

“Yeah, well, thankfully Leide is the only region in Lucis with such a distinct accent.” Noctis sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “Can you imagine if he’d been able to tell we were from Insomnia just by our _voices?_ ”

Noctis cringed and shuddered, and so did Prompto.

“Well, anyways, _Cyril,_ let’s go buy those tickets.”

And Cyril grinned and got to his feet, quietly closing up the chicks’ crates and picking them up with one hand to take the leads of the to adults with the other. “Lead the way, _Vel.”_

Vel shot him a grin in return, and they headed for the main counter. They got their tickets (and some weird looks), but when Vel off-handedly mentioned he’d cleared the chocobos with the captain leaving in an hour, the looks disappeared. One of the attendants shook her head and smiled. Vel heard her say something about that captain always having a soft spot for chocobos.

“Man after my own heart,” Cyril snickered, and they headed out to the ocean side to wait for boarding time.

The chocobos seemed a little uneasy with all the water around.

“Don’t worry,” He told them, softly, “We’re not going _in_ the water.”

Strangely, it actually did seem to help a bit. The two adults settled, their ruffled feathers beginning to lay back down.

And when it was time to board an hour later, he and Prom― _Cyril,_ were able to get them across the boarding plank without much issue. The other passengers gave them a couple of strange looks, much like the attendants at the main desk had, but no one really questioned it too much. Vel was thankful.

He spent most of the ferry ride over holding the adult chocobos’ reins and keeping an eye on the crates containing the babies. Cyril, however, spent the ride taking as many photos as he could, including pictures of Vel. He didn’t necessarily mind. Even if he felt he looked like crap, and he didn’t think Cyril was getting his good side in _any_ of those pictures, he was happy to let him do his thing.

Nightfall was approaching when they landed in Tenebrae―an hour away, at the most. They would have to catch the first train that they could, or else find somewhere willing to house them for the night. If it were just Prompto and himself, Nocti― _Vel_ would just lead the through the night and they might just have to hike and fight the whole night. But with two adult chocobos and five babies, it wasn’t an option. He wasn’t going to get them hurt.

Cyril could handle himself well enough now that Vel could excuse letting him go up against demons.

The same could not be said for any of the chocobos in their care.

The adults may be able to fight, may even be able to _win_ in a fight. But they only had so much energy and after the first demon they probably wouldn’t be any help whatsoever.

“Please tell me you have some kind of livestock car or something.” Vel said, seeing the conductor for the nearby train heading for the front of the train after he’d bought his and Cyril’s tickets. “I can pay extra if I need to, but…”

“You need to take the chocobos?” The conductor asked, turning to him and quirking his brow.

“Yeah,” He admitted.

“Well, we’ve got a second baggage car that won’t be too full this time around…” The man tapped his chin, “Are you Vel? The ferry captain was telling me about a kid named Vel who was transporting some chocobo chicks for the ranch owner over in Lucis.”

“That’s me,” Vel said, somewhat relieved, “We were already on our way to see the Oracle so we thought we might help the guy out.”

Nodding, the conductor motioned him toward the second baggage car and wouldn’t hear another word of Vel offering to pay for being allowed to take the chocobos. He insisted it was fine, and Vel didn’t need to compensate him. Vel accepted it quickly, because he couldn’t look a gift like that in the mouth. With the conductor on his way to the engine, Vel waved Cyril and the adults over.

That Cyril was able to balance both crates on his way over without tripping or even stumbling spoke to his coordination.

They got the chocobos situated and took the lids off of the chicks’ crates to feed them before they got started on the next leg of their journey. By the time they were finished with that, it was time to officially board and they were able to more or less walk through the train to their seats without leaving it again. That would be convenient in the morning, when they had to go feed the chicks before they got rowdy. Thankfully the adults would keep an eye on them in the meantime.

If it’d just been the chicks, he and Prompto could have probably just held their crates in their laps.

* * *

Morning came quicker than Noctis would have liked, but with morning came their arrival at the town near Fenestala Manor, and with that came the next step of the current plan―figuring out if Luna was here right now or not, and figuring out what to do until she returned if she wasn’t. Seeing her if she _was_ here wouldn’t be difficult. She was the _Oracle._ Everyone had rights to see her, for any reason, and unlike everyone else here she would recognize Noctis on sight.

Stepping out of the train with their chocobos, Noctis felt safe switching back, even if only temporarily, to he and Prompto’s real names. There wouldn’t be many people stopping them to talk except to ask about the chocobos, he was sure. Made it harder to slip up.

They managed to get down away from the train stop before the chicks started kicking up a fuss, and Noctis couldn’t help being amused. Of course they’d allow them time to get away from the train before they started absolutely losing their shit.

Laughing, he and Prompto stopped and sat down to open their crates and feed them.

The two white ones in Noctis’ crate were _especially_ talkative, to the point one of the big ones stuck its face down in the crate and, though quietly, cawed right in what Noctis assumed was their ears. They both stopped, but somehow contrived to look annoyed nonetheless.

He suppressed another laugh, and he and Prompto made sure the chicks got plenty to eat. They’d need some exercise here soon, too. They hadn’t gotten much chance to stretch their legs in the past 36 hours. Maybe he and Prompto could arrange that within the next twelve. It wouldn’t be good for them to spend more than two days in their crates, where they had limited range of motion. The things were big enough to hold two knee-height chocobos each, of course, but that still wasn’t very much room for the little round balls of fluff.

Well, that could be the second order of business.

First order of business was figuring out if Luna was around and talking to her if she was.

He decided the best way to find out would be to pack the chicks up again once they’d had their fill of eating and playing and just walk to the Manor and ask. As a pilgrim from Lucis he’d be written off as someone who probably didn’t know their customs, of course, and that was fine. If nothing else it would get him an answer of whether or not the Oracle was around, and he could plan accordingly.

So, once the babies had played enough, he and Prompto packed them back up and headed toward the Manor.

Before they did that, Noctis managed to fashion a makeshift saddle-bag from a jacket and some lengths of rope, which he promptly put one of the crates in. Following his lead, Prompto had done the same and they were able to head up without much more issue. At least they wouldn’t have to walk up there with the crates in their arms.

“Hello,” He greeted the person standing nearest the Manor, who was still quite a ways away from it, “I hate to trouble you, but is the Oracle…”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence.

“I have to say I was not expecting you to come here.” A voice interrupted, from behind him, and the person standing there promptly shrunk back a bit.

Noctis didn’t blame them.

He knew that voice.

He turned immediately, and Prompto turned as well, staying right at his side.

“Ravus,” He greeted, somewhat wary, “Glad to see that you’re in good health. And glad you weren’t expecting me―if you had been, I’ve no doubt my father would have expected it as well.”

“Of course I am in good health, prince.” Ravus scoffed, but seemed to preen a bit at what was obviously a compliment to his intelligence.

And it was.

If Ravus had expected him, then surely the Crownsguard would have thought he’d come here. Ravus and Cor (and Clarus, too) were brilliant. He’d daresay that Ravus was more intelligent than Cor and Clarus combined. But the Crownsguard knew him, where Ravus did not. They were equally matched in anticipating Noctis’ next moves.

“You have made incredibly good time in getting here.” Ravus acknowledged, “And you’ve brought chocobos. Those must have cost a pretty penny.”

“I’ve been on the run for two weeks,” Noctis shrugged, “I had time to save up for them before my father extended the search outside Insomnia’s walls.”

That got him a considering look. But Ravus didn’t comment on whatever passed through his head, instead saying, “I assume that you’re here to see Lunafreya.”

“I’d like to seek her advice, yes.”

Shaking his head, Ravus moved past them and the person who had been, apparently, standing guard. He waved them after him, and Noctis was quick to follow. He heard Prompto following right at his heels, with the chocobos in tow.

Being led into the Manor by Ravus wasn’t how Noctis expected this to happen. He could only hope that Ravus wouldn’t decide to turn on him, and that he wasn’t leading him into a trap at this very moment. As much as he wanted to trust Ravus, he’d given himself to the Empire as a military man. His reasons aside, it still made him difficult to trust.

But he didn’t have a bad feeling yet, and he had to hope that that was because nothing bad was going to happen and not because his innate alarm system was on the fritz.


	17. Luna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an interview today and I've been stressing about it for _days_  
>  Have a chapter for your enjoyment and to calm my nerves

Noctis had been to Fenestala Manor in person only once before, almost a decade ago.

He didn’t know what he was expecting when Ravus led him and Prompto into the front lawn of the Manor, or into the Manor itself, but for everything to be almost exactly as it was… Was not it. A lot could change in ten years, and that Fenestala Manor was more or less identical now to what it had been the last time he had been here was somewhat terrifying. Either the Empire respected Luna and Ravus more than he thought they did, or Luna was more powerful than he’d previously believed, and either way it was tough to think about.

How could he ever hope to match up to a woman powerful enough to hold the Empire at bay with little to no assistance?

Ravus had Prompto hand the reins for the chocobos off to a passing servant and sent that servant off with a brief instruction to ‘take them to the stables’. There was no further explanation to any of the parties present, and Noctis felt his gut roll. He didn’t think that Ravus would hurt his chocobos, but he still worried he might not get them back after this.

He’d grown pretty attached to them, admittedly.

The thought of losing them was uncomfortable.

But the fact was that if this went south, he wouldn’t be wasting time going to get them from the stables. He would be grabbing Prompto and they’d be  _ gone. _ Prompto was more important to him than the birds and ultimately he had gotten them because he knew  _ Prompto _ wanted them and he liked the idea of raising chocobos with him. That was a dream close to being realized, but he knew better than to hope too much.

Especially if Ravus was here.

If anyone had reason to ship him back off to Lucis or to Niflheim, it’d be Ravus… But, also, if anyone would be able to keep him safe here other than Luna, it would be  _ Ravus. _

Ravus was a double-edged sword and he just had to hope he’d get the more favorable side, because Ravus hated his father and Lucis itself enough that he may choose to send him back to keep him away from Luna, or send him to Niflheim to punish his father and the rest of his country. But he might also hate Regis just enough to knowingly hide him here in Tenebrae. It’d depend on his mood.

… Noctis prayed, and prayed  _ hard, _ that he was in a good mood.

Luna was enveloped in a book when Ravus led them to her in the library. She looked up as soon as the door closed behind them, and her eyes widened.

She was on her feet in an instant, crossing to them where they had stalled.

“Luna―” Ravus began.

_ “Here?” _ Luna asked, looking between he and Noctis, startled, “You fled  _ here?” _

“I thought your advice would be valuable,” Noctis said, a little lamely, stunned by the sight of her if he was honest.

Not stunned like he thought he should be, seeing the woman meant to be his wife. Not star-struck and so in love he couldn’t breathe. Really, he was just… She’d grown up a lot since the last time he saw her. She’d been twelve, the last time they saw each other, and while very beautiful she’d also been a little awkward and extremely gangly, but she’d become much more shapely and fit since then, and everything about her screamed  _ elegance. _ It was a lot to take in.

But he didn’t feel the love he was expected to feel.

Not surprising―he barely knew her. He hadn’t had the  _ time _ to fall in love with her.

“My advice.” Luna parroted, looking almost fondly exasperated, “You put yourself in danger of running into an Imperial ambush or my brother on a bad day to come ask my  _ advice?” _

“You’re one of the smartest people I know and moreover the only highly intelligent person I can trust right now.” Noctis explained, and winced when Prompto gave him a slightly affronted look, “ _ Aside _ from you, Prom,” He amended before continuing, “The king is doing some fucked up things in the Citadel―or, was, before I left. Everyone except for myself and my Shield were in on it. And I need to keep Prompto as far away from them as possible to keep them from starting that stuff up again or doing something infinitely worse.”

Luna looked briefly flattered, then somewhat concerned. “You’re a good friend of his, I presume?” She asked Prompto, who flushed and took a slight step back, ducking his head.

“Yes, ma’am.” He answered, cheeks flaming, and Noctis bit his lip.

The look Luna fixed Noctis with was unreadable for a moment, but then she sighed and nodded to herself. “How… ‘Messed up’, exactly, were the things your father was doing?”

“Well, seeing as they managed to create and then kill a daemon,” Noctis trailed purposely, and both she and Ravus went white.

“Your father was experimenting with  _ daemons?” _ Ravus asked, outrage coloring his tone.

“Why would Regis do something like that?” Luna asked, no less outraged but certainly more put-together about it.

“I don’t know,” Noctis admitted, “But they were using Prompto and a bunch of glaives for it. Prom probably knows more than I do, but if he doesn’t want to talk about it…” He trailed purposely once more, shooting Prompto a concerned look.

Thankfully Prompto didn’t look particularly perturbed, but he had the hints of nausea and fear playing about on his face.

“... All I ever heard them say was that they were making a serum of some kind, and they needed my blood for it,” Prompto managed to say, voice shaking a little even if he managed to hold Luna’s gaze without flinching, “The last night of experimenting, they made a daemon. They got rid of it quickly and it was horrifying, but after that they just redoubled their efforts.” He sighed, and his eyes flicked away, “I don’t know that they were  _ trying _ to create daemons, but even if they weren’t I’m still not sure I like whatever it is they  _ were _ trying to make.”

“I don’t either,” Noctis followed up, and if he shifted a little closer to Prompto, if he got a little more protective in that moment, well, that was no one’s business. “Which is why I need advice on where to go and what I can do to keep away from my father and his searches.”

A frowning Luna and a very obviously livid Ravus shared a look. It went on for a long moment and Noctis worried about what they might say or do. He may trust Luna, but had that been wise? Was coming here better or worse for him, for  _ Prompto, _ than staying in Lucis? Even if Luna was the Oracle and pretty much the nicest person the world had to offer, her first priority was keeping Tenebrae safe. Would she turn him away to do that?

He wouldn’t blame her if she did. She was just protecting her country.

But he still hoped that she wouldn’t.

“You can stay here,” Luna finally said, shocking him right out of his thoughts.

And, dumbfounded, all he could do was stare for a moment. Prompto stammered some half-formed attempt at a sentence beside him.

“... Thank you,” Noctis finally managed to say, and he  _ meant _ it. He bowed to her, really  _ bowed, _ as deeply as he could, “I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful I am.”

He saw Prompto bowing as well as he straightened up.

Luna smiled a little at the display, shaking her head fondly. “You’re what, sixteen? Even if it were a danger to my country to house you―which I can assure you it is not―, I could not very well throw two teenagers to the wind. It would be shameful and moreover, my loyalty lies with  _ you, _ Noctis. Not your father, or with Niflheim. It is more important to me that you are safe than it is that my relations with either are friendly. I will do my job, regardless.”

Ravus frowned a little, but nodded along as she spoke. “I will keep Niflheim unaware of your presence here to the best of my ability. Though I’ve no love for you, nor your father, I cannot stomach the thought of allowing you to fend for yourself when both your father  _ and _ the Emperor have cause to take you and never allow you out of their sight again.”

“Thank you,” Noctis said again, still as genuine as he could be.

He couldn’t believe this luck.

_ Somebody _ up there liked him today.

He just wished he knew who so he could thank them. Profusely.

He had a feeling he’d be saying thank you to a lot of people from here on out, and he didn’t find that to be as objectionable as he expected. Take that, Gladio―maybe he  _ wasn’t _ a spoiled prince after all. He was willing to humble himself.

Then again, he was doing it for Prompto, and that made it a whole different affair than just being humble for the sake of it.

Prompto piped out a thanks as well, then hesitantly asked, “How long, exactly, are you willing to let us stay?”

“As long as you need,” Luna said, and she gave him a soft smile that immediately set Noctis at ease―and Prompto too, if the way he sort of immediately relaxed was anything to go by. “I’m quite sure we could come up with some way to justify your presence to the masses, regardless.”

“Perhaps a new set of servants,” Ravus suggested, and the way his eyebrows and lips quirked up in amusement simultaneously made Noctis want to punch him and to hug him.

That was a weird feeling to have about Ravus.

“It’s not a bad idea,” Noctis agreed to the suggestion without indulging either desire, despite how much he may have wanted to, “If nothing else it would keep us out of the public eye too much, which would lessen the amount of attention being drawn to you two over my presence.”

Luna seemed to consider it. Before she could say anything, however, Ravus suddenly grinned and snapped his fingers as if he’d had the best idea in the world. Achingly, it reminded Noctis of Ignis. But that didn’t stay in his head for too long.

“You brought chocobos with you, yes?” He asked.

“Yes, as a favor to―” Noctis stopped, then felt a matching grin stretch his lips, “Caretakers for the chocobos brought from Lucis.” He surmised, and Ravus nodded with that grin still on his face.

Prompto picked up the train of thought easily. “Wiz always wanted to try to get chocobos spread back across the world, and who better to ask to run a chocobo sanctuary here in Tenebrae than the Oracle herself? It’d make perfect sense, in the long run.”

“Precisely,” Ravus agreed. “And who better to take care of the chocobos that were brought than the two people that were seen coming into the Manor with them?”

“Of course, we’ll have to explain the situation to the servants,” Luna mused as she, too, caught on, “As I value transparency. But no one else has to know that the two of you are anything but Lucian immigrants here to take care of the chocobos.”

“So it’s settled, then?” Noctis asked, hesitant to believe even  _ more _ good fortune.

Was it really this easy?

Don’t get him wrong, he knew that taking care of the chocobos and keeping up his act as Vel Sveso, Lucian immigrant and chocobo caretaker, would be difficult. There was nothing easy about  _ that. _ But having somewhere to go? Having someone he could trust with Prompto… Was it  _ really _ this easy?

_ Thank you! _ He thought, earnestly, and hoped that whoever had answered his prayers about Ravus heard it.

“More or less.” Luna answered, “We’ll just need names to call you so that the servants and the public will know just who the chocobo caretakers are.”

That was a relief. He already had that.

“We’ve got names, ma’am,” Prompto said before he could, smiling and looking even more relieved than Noctis felt, “We took care of that back in Lucis.”

“Oh? Then to whom do I owe the honor?”

“Vel Sveso, your ladyship,” Noctis answered with a perhaps too expressive bow.

“Cyril Maursus, my lady.” Prompto mirrored the bow with that relieved grin still firmly in place.

“An honor to meet you, Masters Sveso and Maursus,” Luna said, and her curtsy was  _ also _ over-the-top, a mischievous smile playing at her lips. “Welcome to Fenestala Manor.”


	18. Regis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the well-wishes about the interview yesterday ^^ It went great, and I go back for a second interview next week - I'm still really nervous, though, so I'll probably be writing a lot to keep my mind off of it lol I might actually manage to keep doing daily updates

“You’re  _ sure _ that he’s not in Insomnia?” Regis asked, stressed and strung out.

He knew the answer―of course he did. He’d heard it too many times to count.

Noctis was not in the Crown City.

It had been two weeks and there hadn’t been hide nor hair of him since he’d dismissed Gladiolus on the night of his and Regis’...  _ Fight… _ About the experiments. No one had seen him, no one had heard from him. They’d checked every hotel and side-street and abandoned house in the city. They’d even searched the  _ sewers. _

And Noctis was nowhere to be found.

It had occurred to Regis, more than once, that perhaps Noctis had not left simply because he was angry at his father for the information he’d been given. Perhaps there was more to it, or some other motivation. It was no mystery that he was outraged at his father for the experiments. He wasn’t even going to pretend that was the case. But if it was just outrage, he’d have stayed in the city and he would have fought his father tooth and nail over it until it was over.

Instead, he’d vanished, and with him had gone his best friend.

… Was Noctis really  _ that _ loyal to his friend?

Or was he just that distrustful of his father and those in his employ?

He wasn’t sure that he liked either option, really. No matter how he looked at it he had a very strong hand in Noctis’ disappearance. And that stung.

He knew what he’d done, he’d known what he was doing when he  _ started. _ He knew it was  _ wrong, _ he knew that Noctis would take issue with it. He knew if he didn’t explain the exact reason that  _ everyone _ would take issue with it. It wasn’t a hard concept to grasp, really, he―

“Yes, your Majesty.” Cor sighed, “I’m  _ sure. _ ”

Sighing, Regis slumped in his throne. It was only he and Cor right now―nearly all of the glaives and the majority of the Crownsguard were out looking for Noctis, and the glaives that were still here were recovering from what serum they’d managed to get before Noctis spirited his friend away from the lab, and then away from the city. Early this morning they’d dispatched groups of glaives to each of the other regions of Lucis, and they were under strict orders to search every nook and cranny and speak to  _ everyone _ who would let them talk or ask questions. He was thankful for the lack of company while he tried to pull himself together, but he was not thankful at all for the reason. What kind of father would be glad that he was short-staffed in the castle due to sending out search parties for his son?

“We can only hope,” Cor said, as he continued to slump, “That he hasn’t left the country. If he has, he’s more or less lost to us.”

“I’m aware.” Regis groaned, pressing a hand to his face and fighting the urge to scream. “He can’t have gotten  _ that _ far. I hate to say it, but he’s of royal blood, and on top of that he’s never been out of the Crown City on his own. He’s not cut out for all that without more preparation.”

Cor hummed, nodding a bit, “I could perhaps send his remaining retinue after him if he  _ has _ left the country―they’ve more right than the rest of us to go looking for him in occupied nations.”

Regis grimaced, “Pardon me if I’m hesitant to allow  _ them _ out of the city as well.”

“All due respect, Regis, but I don’t think Noctis  _ wants _ them with him. Don’t you think he’d have taken them if he wanted them with him? I just believe they may have a good chance of convincing him to come back.”

“... As a last resort,” Regis finally agreed, wearily. “And not without an escort… Just in case.”

Cor bowed, and both of them jumped when the doors to the throne room creaked open.

“The patrol sent to Duscae have sent word back.” Clarus announced, and both of them relaxed at the knowledge that it was him.

Then, when the words he’d spoken finally sank in, Regis sat bolt upright on his throne. “What did they say?”

“Several people recognized the picture we sent of the prince, but none of them knew where he went. The owner of the chocobo outpost especially seemed to know who he was, but refused to comment on his whereabouts, if he knew them.” Clarus said, “There was a lot of talk about none of them knowing his name―said he was just some kid who rolled up to the post one day and started taking on hunts with his friend. Apparently,” He paused, sighing almost as if in disbelief, “Noctis and his friend managed to fell two behemoths on their own.”

Regis blanched, eyes wide.

Noctis had begun taking on  _ hunts? _ He’d taken on a  _ behemoth? _

His nerves were going to be shot by the time this was all over with.  _ Completely _ shot. He was going to go into cardiac arrest, or something.

By the  _ Six, _ he’d known that Noctis had to be determined to get away if he’d left Insomnia in the first place, but if he’d been doing hunts then he had adapted entirely too quickly to life outside of the Crown City.

_ How did he even get out of the city? _

“The few people who would say more than a few words about it apparently said he handled himself very well. One of ‘em said the day he showed up he looked like he hadn’t slept, and that was the day after he disappeared.”

If Noctis had made it to  _ Duscae _ within  _ two days _ , he was playing what may be the most intense game of hardball Regis had ever seen him play. That meant he had to have left the night that they fought. Probably immediately afterwards. Had he even hesitated? And what had possessed him to think leaving the city was the best option?

“How did he even leave the city?” Regis groaned aloud, pushing his face back into his hand. “By all accounts it doesn’t make sense. There’s no way to get out of the city without prior approval, so someone had to have snuck him out, but they would have come forward by now, wouldn’t they?”

“About that…” Cor piped up, “The night that you and Noctis had your…  _ Disagreement… _ ” There was a barb there, in his tone, that reminded Regis that Cor had been against hiding anything from the prince and his Shield. “There were several cargo trucks leaving just before sunset. It’s possible he managed to slip past the glaives patrolling and checking the trucks and escape that way.”

Regis’ stomach dropped into his shoes.

Of course.

Noctis was smart. He’d take whatever options he had to get out if he was convinced that was the only way.

“... We just have to hope he’s still in Lucis.” He finally said, and the other two nodded.

Cor excused himself, heading back to whatever command center he had set up.

Clarus waited.

“... Gladiolus is a mess.” He finally sighed, when they were sure they were alone.

“I would imagine so.” Regis sighed in reply. “He’s lost his prince and been given every reason not to trust his father  _ or _ his king.”

“Or any of his brothers-in-arms.” Clarus agreed wearily. “Keeping him in Noctis’ room with Ignis hasn’t helped. They don’t seem to be getting along.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised, Ignis knew and he didn’t tell him.”

“... We’ve gotten ourselves into a fine mess, haven’t we?”

“I don’t think we’ve been in a bigger mess since the paparazzi got hold of a picture of us while your wife was still alive.” Regis grumbled from behind his hand. “But at least that had a simple enough end. This is going to follow us for a long time…”

Clarus sighed.

Regis did as well.

A fine mess, indeed.

If there was anything Regis wished he could tell his younger self, it was that he shouldn’t hide his motives or actions from Noctis. If Noctis had only  _ known _ he may still have been angry, or disgusted, but perhaps he’d have come around to the idea and this wouldn’t have happened.


	19. Different

“The most disconcerting part about all of this is probably not being able to use Noct’s Armiger anymore.” Gladio admitted off-handedly, laying on the floor of the prince’s room because he couldn’t find anything else at all to do.

“It is rather odd to be unable to simply stow and retrieve things at will,” Ignis agreed.

Gladio was still livid with Ignis, but spending so much time around him made staying outwardly aggressive difficult. They were rarely allowed to leave Noctis’ quarters for a host of reasons, and Gladio had to admit he probably wouldn’t have left anyway. This was the only place in all of Insomnia that he could avoid his father in. But being in the enclosed space with Ignis was…

Well, it reminded him how long he’d known the guy.

He was still livid, sure, but Ignis was familiar and he couldn’t  _ hate _ him, as much as he might want to. At least Ignis had the excuse of fear for his own life and what it might mean for Noctis if he was taken out of the equation for any reason. He was just a  _ person, _ you know? He had weaknesses, and worrying too much about Noctis was one of them. They had that in common. Gladio was starting to realize that he may have done the same thing, in Ignis’ shoes. If it kept Noctis safe and kept himself from being thrown to the hounds for any reason and thereby putting Noctis in danger, he might keep something like that secret from him, too.

At least Ignis had believable motivations and rationalizations.

That was more than he could say for his own father or for King Regis.

A month, now, since he’d found out the truth and he was still just… He couldn’t  _ believe _ them. Why in the  _ world _ would they do something like this? It wasn’t as if they were particularly forthcoming with their intentions or goals, though, so finding answers to his questions was unlikely… And that was just more annoying. For all his father spoke through the door of wanting to fix things, he didn’t make much of an effort or acknowledge the attempts Gladio made toward exactly that.

“I keep trying to pull my books out of it,” Gladio sighed to Ignis, who chuckled.

It was quiet, and Gladio kind of hated it.

Silence hit differently without Noctis around.

He still kept half-expecting Noctis to come barging in complaining about some dignitary or another, with a recently retrieved Prompto at his heels laughing and reminding him he had to deal with that for the rest of his life.

It was kind of depressing, really.

“... Join me?” He finally asked, turning his head to look at Ignis where the man sat next to the window.

“On the floor?” Ignis asked, quirking a brow.

“Well, yeah.”

Ignis shook his head, and Gladio recognized the look on his face for the fond exasperation it was. But then he stood and walked over, folding himself gracefully down onto the ground at his side. “Why, exactly?” He asked, once he had settled on his side, watching Gladio.

The Shield shifted off of his back to face Ignis, settling onto his side as well. “I got lonely.”

Ignis’ lips twitched. “But you’re mad at me.” He reminded him.

“Oh, I’m livid,” Gladio agreed, “But that’s not gonna stop me from wanting you closer.”

That got him an odd look for about half a second―too short for him to properly decipher. Ignis just shook his head again, though, lips quirking up on one side.

“You’re aware we’re both going to ache later?” He asked.

“Oh, of course.”

They stared at each other a moment, and even if Gladio  _ was _ still honestly livid with Ignis, it  _ was _ nice to have him close. He didn’t have Noctis and he felt a little useless as a result, so having someone to focus on was beneficial. It helped that it was someone he was familiar with. Someone he’d almost defend as aggressively as he defended Noctis. Even if it was someone he was un _ believably _ angry at―he got angry at Noctis all the time, and he defended him nonetheless. It was his job and he  _ loved _ Noctis. That was his  _ brother. _

Prompto was the same way.

Ignis was, too, to some extent. But there was something different between them. They were both more and less volatile with each other than they were with others. They could hit extremes of emotion and scream for hours, sure, but that was never the end of it for them. That was never the end of  _ them. _ They stuck together and they worked shit out.

He and Prompto never really fought and if they did Prompto usually just apologized for whatever it was, even when it wasn’t his fault, and tried to move past it. It was hard to fight with Prompto because he was like a little brother who hadn’t actually done anything wrong.

He and Noctis didn’t really fight, either, and when they did it was a lot like it was with Ignis except they didn’t really ever work it out with words. They’d scream and be mad and then Noctis would hit him (especially when Noctis was rightfully angry at him) and they’d duke it out and at the end there’d be the compulsory “we good?” and that was the end of it.

But it was just  _ different _ with Ignis, and despite his earlier thoughts he was pretty sure he’d end up working things out with Ignis before Noctis ever  _ considered _ showing his face again. He couldn’t handle staying mad at him for too long, he didn’t think. That wasn’t how their relationship worked.

That wasn’t how  _ they _ worked.

And, you know, they were all they had right now. They didn’t really have anyone else they could trust in this hellhole. They had to make up eventually if they didn’t want to go insane, frankly.

… But not yet.

Not yet.

He wasn’t ready yet.

He wasn’t ready to talk it out.

So he didn’t talk. He just reached out across the distance between them and grabbed Ignis’ hand and squeezed. Ignis returned the squeeze. There was an understanding, an agreement. They’d talk later. They’d work this out.

For now, they were silent.

But they were okay.


	20. The Passage of Time

“Donut, what do you think you’re doing?”

Noctis barely suppressed a smile as he entered the fenced area that Luna had given to them outside the manor nearing a month ago. Seeing Prompto standing with his hands on his hips, face unimpressed, staring down into the grass, presumably at one of the little yellow chicks… It was cute. And funny.

“I don’t know, Cyril, what  _ is _ Donut doing?” He teased somewhat as he approached, bag of feed in hand.

“She  _ seems _ to be trying to steal Snowball’s feathers.” Prompto informed him, giving him a fondly annoyed look as he reached down to nudge the two chicks apart. “Poor little white puffball’s been ruffled all day and she’s  _ so _ not helping.”

Noctis shook his head and shook the bag in the chicks’ general direction. Their attention immediately redirected from each other, the two at Prompto’s feet were quick to swarm Noctis’. The other three followed, and then the adults were there as well, nudging at his gut and the bag. Grinning, he hefted it and walked carefully over to the feeding trough for the adults to feed them first.

Then he made sure each chick had their own individual pile of food so they wouldn’t fight, and he stepped over them to return to Prompto.

“They’re starting to get bigger,” He pointed out as he observed them.

“Rajah’s  _ huge, _ ” Prompto agreed with a shake of his head.

“Coconut’s not far behind him.”

“It’s hard to believe that they’re gonna get as big as Fancy and Magnus one day.” The blond sighed wistfully, “They start out so  _ tiny. _ ”

“So do humans,” Noctis snickered, “And look at where that got Gladio.”

Prompto pushed both his brows almost into his hairline, nodding his agreement.

It was quiet, and Noctis didn’t mind. Prompto was a little quieter these days―didn’t seem to mind the silence, himself. Didn’t seem to feel the need to fill the silence with chatter. But he also seemed  _ happier _ now. Not necessarily any peppier or more outgoing… Just happier.

Noctis was beginning to understand that Prompto being chipper and chatty for the sake of others was much,  _ much _ different than Prompto being chipper and chatty for real.

For one, he was quieter.

Except, of course, when the mood struck him to ramble, in which case Noctis was just as happy to listen now as he always had been.

It was nice to see him genuinely happy. It was nice to watch the way his face lit up every morning when he got to see the chocobos first thing after waking up. He was just really cute and fun to be around when he was genuinely happy. Noctis liked that, and Prompto being happy, as he’d learned before, made  _ him _ happy. He guessed his protective instinct just ran deeper than he thought it did, if seeing Prompto happy and thriving kept his own mood so good.

He didn’t really consider any other options.

They watched the chicks devour their piles of food, and then when it was time for them to get a little play time in, Prompto grinned and tossed his white jacket at Noctis to hold. Noctis grinned as well, and sat in the grass laughing while Prompto ran to and fro through the fenced-in field, chased by the tiny conga line of chicks.

* * *

Another week passed by in a breeze, and Noctis was startled to realize that his seventeenth birthday was only about three months away.

Had he really left the Citadel nearly two months ago? He did the mental math again and, yes, it seemed so. The month and a week he’d been here, plus the two weeks he’d been on the run in Lucis―that was almost two months. It was disconcerting and reminded him, quite suddenly, that Prompto’s birthday wasn’t all that long after his.

He’d have to start thinking of something to do for him or something to give him. Maybe some more film for his camera? Six knew he needed it, and that he’d appreciate it. He’d been taking so many pictures this month of the chocobos to document their progress (and just have pictures of them) that Noctis was  _ pretty _ sure his supply of film was dwindling.

He ended up deciding to do something different as a gift, but he ordered him several rolls of film anyway.

When he finally got them from the merchant and handed them off to Prompto he got his ear talked off about how thoughtful he was and how Prompto had been hesitating on asking for more because he didn’t want to trouble Noctis. He’d also gotten the best hug he’d had in years. And he’d hugged back and grinned and told Prompto not to worry about it too much. He was happy to make sure he had enough film to keep using his camera.

That just ended in another hug.

In the meantime, he came to have a little more respect and trust for Ravus. It wasn’t hard to figure out, being in close proximity to him, that he was only working for Niflheim because he saw them as an ally of convenience. He knew the things they were doing and didn’t necessarily agree with the methods, but couldn’t argue them regardless of his stance on them. It wasn’t his decision to make, even with his recent promotion to High Commander of the army.

All of their experiments were the responsibility and pet project of the Emperor, the Chancellor, and the Minister for Research. It was just his responsibility to lead the troops and the few other humans there were in the army.

Noctis caught him complaining more than once about one of his subordinates, a man named Loqi Tummelt. Something about him being an annoying upstart who didn’t like to listen to him.

In the past, Noctis may have made some sort of comment about not blaming the guy, but he kept his mouth shut now. He actually had some respect for Ravus, and Ravus seemed to have some for him. It made the urges to be sarcastic and otherwise unfriendly to the man much easier to ignore, and by now had almost eliminated them.

* * *

A month off from his birthday, four months into running from his country and his father, the first formal letter from Regis arrived.

It was nothing particularly special, just a simple question as to whether or not Luna had seen his son, an explanation of them having had a misunderstanding and Noctis having been unable to be found in Lucis in the aftermath.

Still, it made Noctis nervous.

He didn’t know what Luna did with it, nor did he ask. It was probably better if he didn’t know.

Even better than that was if he just didn’t think about it at all.

* * *

His birthday was a quiet affair, and if he was honest it was a relief. He was so used to his birthdays being fairly public and coming with horrible, formal parties that he hated. It was really nice to just eat dinner with Luna and Ravus and Prompto and it to more or less be a normal day, with the exception of him getting gifts and eating cake for dessert.

And that just reminded him that, frankly? He really liked being nothing but a simple chocobo farmer. Sure, it required early wakeup calls a lot of the time and as they got older he’d need to join in with Prompto on exercising them, but overall it was pretty relaxing work. In comparison to being taught how to run a country, or being a hunter, at least.

It was pretty nice.

And it suited Prompto very nicely, as it turned out. That made it easier for Noctis to get on board with, even in the event he  _ didn’t _ like it. But he  _ did _ like it, if he was entirely honest.

Like he said, it was relaxing in comparison to what he’d been doing for the rest of his life. On top of that, it kept him well out of other peoples’ way and that made being undercover much easier. And, on top of  _ that, _ it kept him around Prompto most of the time. At this age the chicks required a lot of attention as they were growing rapidly, and that meant he and Prompto spent most of their days out in the field with them.

Noctis got used to wearing a wide-brimmed hat to keep the sun off of his face.

Prompto just took every ounce of sun and, more than once, Noctis caught him napping with the chocobos in the afternoon sun. He could see, each day, the freckles on the blond’s face (and everywhere else) duplicating and darkening. Five months out of the Crown City and Prompto had more freckles than Noctis had ever seen on anybody. It was  _ adorable. _

Of course, his birthday was coming up as well, and Noctis had no idea what to get him.  _ Still. _ He’d been mulling it over for literal months, now, and he couldn’t figure it out. He’d already gifted him chocobos and more film than he could use before the year was out. What could he give him for his birthday that would be more special or impactful than either of those?

He couldn’t think of anything, and he didn’t like that.

Inevitably, an idea  _ did _ come to him, a month and a half before Prompto’s birthday.

He noticed that Prompto’s favored wristband was wearing down, starting to tear, and he seemed oddly concerned about it. Noctis never really asked  _ why, _ but he imagined there was just something there he wanted to hide. It obviously wasn’t about the wristband or he’d be pitching a fit to Noctis about it. It had to be something  _ else. _

So Noctis thought he’d get him a better wristband. Something that would hold up better to the test of time―and while he was at it, he could make sure it was meaningful.

He played some hardball keeping his plans from Prompto, to the point of measuring his wrist while he was asleep to make sure he got the right size when he actually bought what he was looking for. The local jeweller was more than happy to help him create what he was looking for, especially when Noctis approached with both the materials and an approximate sizing of the recipient’s wrist.

The wristband he ended up with was flexible, but would more than stand up to anything Prompto could throw at it. It was made of thick, but light and moveable metal so he could adjust it as needed and actually get it onto his wrist in the first place. It was borderline bulletproof, too, which would be good in the event things went south before Prompto could draw his own gun.

Noctis’ favorite part of the whole thing were the engravings.

A heart on each end of the metal―the parts that would touch when Prompto adjusted them to fit as they were supposed to―were the most obvious, and would no doubt be appreciated by Prompto and taken the wrong way by everyone else. And, on the inside, where only Prompto would ever see, was a second engraving. It would be ever-more appreciated, Noctis was sure.

He couldn’t wait to give it to him.

He retrieved it a week before Prompto’s birthday under the guise of picking up the chocobo feed they’d ordered from Wiz―the last shipment they’d get since they were growing their own now. It worked out well because the bracelet fit easily into Noctis’ pocket and Prompto was more concerned with taking care of the still rapidly growing chicks to really bother with noticing any lumps in Noctis’ pockets.

He procured a box for it to keep it safe some time after that, and kept it hidden away for the rest of the week.

Finally, after Prompto had had his cake the night of his birthday, and opened his gifts from Luna and Ravus (a fluffy bathrobe he fawned over and a brand new, shiny pistol that he  _ also _ fawned over), he and Noctis retired back to their quarters. They couldn’t be assed to ask for separate rooms, and Luna had seemed to know that when she’d placed them together in the residential wing of the manor. They each had their own bedroom, sure, but they shared a living room and kitchen and bathroom. It was like a two-bedroom apartment.

“I got you something, too,” Noctis finally told the blond, while they hung up their jackets to be grabbed first thing in the morning.

“You did?” Prompto blinked at him, surprised but not upset. “I― You didn’t have to, Noct, I―”

“Well, I did.” Noctis cut him off with a smile, “So deal with it.”

Prompto gave him a sheepish grin. “Okay, lay it on me―but you really need to stop spending money on me.”

“Never.” Noctis stuck his tongue out and went to retrieve the box.

When he handed it over, Prompto seemed a little bit apprehensive. He bit his lip as he opened the box, but the apprehension turned quickly into surprise. His mouth opened a little, like he wanted to speak, then closed.

“I noticed your old one was getting pretty beat up,” Noctis explained quietly, and regardless of thinking it was a good idea for a gift he was still nervous. His observational skills  _ may _ not exactly be something Prompto appreciated at this point in time. Especially not about something he seemed to be dying to keep secret. “And you seemed bothered about it. I won’t ask  _ why, _ ” He made sure to say, “Because it’s not my business unless you want it to be, but I still want you to have the bracelet―can’t tear metal, after all.”

Prompto looked at him, and his stomach rolled in anxiety, and there was a silence between them. Prompto swallowed. He seemed to be thinking very hard about something.  _ Very _ hard.

And then he lurched across the space between them and pulled Noctis into a tight hug, pressing his face into his neck. And Noctis returned it even if he wasn’t sure what prompted the reaction. He laid his head against the top of Prompto’s and held him even when Prompto started to shake. He was alarmed, sure, but he couldn’t very well get Prompto to stop and tell him what was wrong without being insensitive.

So he held him and rubbed his back and eventually Prompto pulled back with red-rimmed eyes and a weak smile on his face. He swiped at the tears beneath his eyes stubbornly with the hand that wasn’t holding the bracelet box.

“Thanks,” He said, voice strained, “I can’t― I’m not ready to talk about it, but… Thank you.”

Noctis offered him a smile in return, relieved that Prompto seemed to have been crying not from fear or sadness, but from  _ relief. _ “Whenever you’re ready, you know I’ll listen.”

Prompto grinned, expression still watery, and Noctis politely averted his eyes when he removed the bracelet from the box and prepared to take the other off.

He made a choked noise while Noct was looking away, and Noctis had to force himself not to look back.

When Prompto sat the old, tattered bracelet down on the table in front of them, Noctis glanced at him. He had the new bracelet on and was biting his lip in a smile while new tears bloomed in his eyes. He’d have been worried if not for the smile, frankly.

“I’m your person?” He asked, and Noctis grinned at him.

“Well, yeah.” He replied, “You’re my best friend, and I love you, and I couldn’t ask for a better person to be raising chocobos with several hundred miles away from the city I grew up in.”

Prompto hugged him again, and he hugged back happily.

“You’re my person, too.” Prompto made sure to tell him, voice choked.

And Noctis grinned and pressed his face into Prompto’s hair, “I don’t think I could be more honored.”

Prompto hiccuped a laugh.

They stayed there for a while. They had chocobos to take care of in the morning, and it was sure to be an early wakeup call, but this… This was more important, for the time being. And, sure, they were probably going to be cranky in the morning. Prompto was sure to have a headache from crying late into the night. It was going to be a rough morning for them, but they’d live. They’d certainly gone through worse together.

Noctis was willing to bet they’d go through worse again, and against common sense he hoped for it. At least hardships together meant they were still  _ together. _ As long as Prompto was safe, he wouldn’t mind taking on something horrible.

* * *

Nine months after he’d run away, the second formal letter from Regis arrived.

Luna handed it off to Noctis without even reading it, quirking a brow in a way that told him it was up to him what was done about it. He swallowed and  _ did _ read it, but in the end he just closed his eyes and handed it back to her with a shake of his head. He didn’t know what to do about it. And it was her country to protect, anyway. It should be her call.

She nodded in understanding, expression still serene and not at all angry that he’d handed responsibility back to her seemingly without a second thought.

She read the letter, she frowned, and she promptly tossed it into the fire at her side without so much as a final glance at its contents.

She asked a servant to bring her something to write a reply with.

Noctis didn’t read her reply, but the carefully passive look on her face told him she was lying through her teeth. He appreciated it immensely.

* * *

“God, dude, look at this!” Prompto laughed, holding up two of his pictures for Noctis to see.

The first, Noctis realized was from right after they’d left Insomnia. A selfie Prompto had taken on the way away from Hammerhead that first morning. He smiled at the memory and the slight nostalgia that came along with it. Then he noticed the second photo―clearly a more recent selfie, as Rajah in all his chunky chocobo glory was, apparently, sleeping quite peacefully on Prompto’s chest in the cool afternoon sun. The grass around Prom’s head was faded and discolored, proof it couldn’t have been more than a day or so old. The most stunning part, really, was that with the pictures side by side, Prompto wasn’t even recognizable.

He looked too barren, in the old one. His wrinkled black clothes and the small smattering of freckles on his face were just… They didn’t match up. He looked plain, and the months of closeness since then let Noctis know that smile was more for show than anything.

Prompto’s more recent photo was… There was a certain life to it that Noctis couldn’t see in the old one. His face was absolutely overtaken by freckles, blue eyes bright and smile wide and genuine. The white clothes that Luna had given him only added to the differences, and Noctis had to admit that, if he were looking for Prompto without knowing how much he’d changed in the last ten months, he’d never recognize the recent photo as him.

“You look so  _ different.” _ He said to the blond, who laughed.

“Exactly! I bet the folks back in Lucis wouldn’t even recognize me.” Prompto continued to chuckle, eyes scrunching up.

“Probably not,” Noctis agreed with a smile. “But I bet they’d recognize me on  _ sight.” _

“I’m not sure,” Prompto replied, pursing his lips as he shuffled through his stacks of pictures. “I mean…”

He let the pictures he’d chosen do the talking for him, and Noctis realized Prompto wasn’t the only one who had changed. He was far from being unrecognizable, of course, but he was different enough that he could stir doubt even in someone who had looked at a photo of him recently. He was certain of that. And if he were to style his hair differently and do something different otherwise (glasses, perhaps?) he’d probably be able to fool  _ Prompto. _ At least for a little while.

Where Prompto had turned into a mass of freckles and slightly tanned skin over the last few months, Noctis had also darkened. And, sure, Prompto kept his hair about the same length over the months, but Noctis had been letting his grow out. And it had  _ curled. _ He didn’t realize his hair could curl like that. If he pulled it into a ponytail or put a headband on, he bet Prompto would have to do a double-take. And, it could have just been him, but he was pretty sure there was just a different feeling to him now. The pictures certainly implied an unknown change in him.

It hit him, as he was looking, that the difference was  _ happiness. _

He was happier here, taking care of chocobos with Prompto, living as a  _ servant _ and being treated as nothing but the chocobo caretaker or a friend by those around him, than he had  _ ever _ been in the Citadel. He’d be surprised if he didn’t understand, very acutely, what the difference was and how much simpler this life was. Aside from the associated issues of being a runaway prince, he was safe and there were few complications. Even something horrible happening to the chocobos would be less stressful to him, always, than trying to deal with the affairs of Lucis.

Would there come a day when that wasn’t true, he wondered? Would there come a day where he would happily take something happening to Lucis over something happening to his chocobos?

He already knew that he would take something happening to either of them over something bad happening to Prompto.

He watched Prompto continue to sort through his photos, and it occurred to him as the younger put a couple of them away in an album that, holy  _ shit, _ they’d been away for nearly a year. A  _ year! _

If he could go back and tell himself, ten months ago, that he’d survived away from Insomnia for almost a year without anything bad happening, he was certain his younger self would never believe him. And he wouldn’t blame him.

But hey.

He’d done it, and spring was coming, and in two months the first year was up and maybe they could celebrate? He’d like that. Maybe a picnic out in the chocobo fields, since they’d have regrown by then.

He smiled, and Prompto caught him and smiled back.

He didn’t ask why he was smiling.

Noctis didn’t tell.


	21. In The Spring

It was a fine day in late February when Noctis, after nearly a year, woke with a bad feeling. It wasn’t anywhere near as intense as the last one. Not by a long shot. But it still rolled his gut and had him pressing his pillow down over his head to prevent any noises or light from slipping through. After eleven and a half months it was unbelievably intense to have a bad feeling again.

“Noct?” He heard Prompto probe after he laid there probably an hour.

He hadn’t even heard the door open.

He grunted and pressed the pillow down more firmly on his face, but couldn’t hold the pressure. He didn’t have the strength in his limbs for it.

“Hey…” The bed dipped at his side, and a gentle hand landed on his shoulder.

He took a breath.

“... Bad feeling?” Prompto guessed, quietly, after a long moment of silence between them.

He hummed an affirmation, slowly uncovering his head to look at his friend. The blond looked back and reached up to feel his forehead. His hand felt cold in comparison, and Noctis knew that was bad considering how clammy he personally felt. He must have a hell of a fever.

He’d never known his bad feelings to give him fevers before. That was something very different. Some other kind of warning? Or just his body trying to stop the nausea after how long it had persisted last time?

Nevertheless, he couldn’t help sighing in relief at the coldness of Prompto’s touch, eyes closing again.

“... I’ll deal with the chicks today,” Prompto told him, “You just lay down until you can move without throwing up, okay?”

As much as he didn’t want to agree, Noctis sighed out an, “Okay,” and let Prompto leave.

He laid there for another thirty minutes or so before he got too anxious to remain there. Call him paranoid, but he didn’t like the feelings of this particular bad feeling. Something was wrong, and something was  _ different _ this time than all the other times. He couldn’t afford to lay around hoping it would stop.

He forced down a glass of water, got dressed, and made his way out to the fields to help Prompto.

The chicks seemed to be able to tell that he didn’t feel particularly great, because Snowball came over and just rubbed against his leg until he sat down and pet him. Coconut followed him, sitting on the other side. He allowed it, of course, and pet both of them at the same time while keeping a watchful eye on Prompto from under his wide-brimmed hat.

“I thought I told you to lay down?” Prompto admonished when he finally noticed him, hands on his hips and a worried frown on his face.

“You told me to lay down until I could move without throwing up.” Noctis corrected tiredly, “And I could move without throwing up, so I figured I wouldn’t stew in my bad feeling and let it get worse by getting paranoid.”

Prompto sighed, but let it go with a wave of his hands. “Just… Don’t overwork yourself, okay?”

“I don’t think these two would let me if I  _ wanted _ to, P― Cyril.”

That got him another worried frown, but Prompto went about his business without further argument. It took Noctis a while to realize that, over the past year, it was usually  _ Prompto _ who forgot himself long enough to almost call him the wrong name. Noctis had been pretty steadfast in saying the right one unless they were completely alone. That he’d slipped up wasn’t exactly promising.

Maybe he should have stayed inside after all.

He pushed the thought away and, once he was sure that Prompto was just exercising the chicks and would be fine, closed his eyes. He concentrated on the bad feeling as hard as he could, trying to pull an image forward about it. It wasn’t something he could always do, but after last time he was fairly optimistic in getting a less vague picture if he managed to get one at all.

What he got made him jerk back, terror clenching in his gut. He just barely avoided hurting either of the chicks in his instinctive reaction to the apparent danger. Just barely avoided calling his sword out of the Armiger. He did  _ not _ like that.

He didn’t like that at all.

But he gasped in a breath, tried to steady himself, and tried again. He’d only caught a half-second’s worth of a glimpse before instinctual fear yanked him away. He needed to examine it and hope that he reacted better the second time around.

The image that took shape behind his closed eyelids punched the breath back out of his lungs.  _ Blackness _ and the outlines of daemons but they were only  _ backgrounds _ to the grinning face he saw. Grinning, dripping inky blackness from the eyes, such  _ bright _ eyes.

It felt  _ dangerous. _

He snapped his eyes open and pulled Coconut and Snowball into his lap, in spite of the fact that they were very soon going to be far too big for him to do that with. For now, it was comforting. The weight was comforting. Their  _ presence _ was comforting.

“What’s wrong?” Prompto asked, sitting down next to him, brows drawn.

“Tried to see…” Noctis mumbled, “Don’t like what I got.”

“... Is it your dad?”

Noctis shook his head, “Something else. Worse. Daemons and a grinning face with  _ black _ leaking out of its eyes.”

Prompto winced.

It was quiet a moment.

“We should tell Luna.” Prompto finally said, and Noctis nodded.

When he could convince himself to set Coconut and Snowball down, and more than that convince them to  _ let _ him, Prompto helped him to his feet. They made their way back to the Manor and prayed. Luna had been home for the majority of the winter, unable to find a train to carry her into Niflheim to care for what few citizens remained during the roaring blizzard that had been going on until late last month. She was set to leave any day now.

They found her in the library, writing a letter by the looks of things.

“Oh, Vel,” She greeted, seeing Noctis out of the corner of her eye, “Your father wrote again. Would you like to read the letter before I dispose of it?”

“No thank you,” He told her, heading over to sit down in the chair opposite her, “But I do have something I need to talk to you about.”

She glanced up, surveying his expression for a long moment. “Something’s wrong,” She finally deduced.

“Very. I wish I could conclusively tell you what it is, but I only get vague images.”

She frowned deeply. “What images do you see?”

So he told her. He tried to give as much detail as he could.

In the end, she frowned deeper, somehow. Her brows pulled together tightly, hands folding primly on the table as she thought. Finally, she shook her head.

“I feel as if I know what you’re seeing,” She admitted, “But I’m not sure. I suppose now is a good time, however, to mention that we will be receiving a guest very soon.”

“A guest?” Prompto asked, chewing his lip and furrowing his brows in worry.

“The Chancellor of Niflheim,” She sighed, “Ardyn Izunia.”


	22. Hindsight

Regis remembered, much earlier on, thinking that by the time Noctis came back he was going to be a nervous wreck, and was probably going to go into cardiac arrest.

He would like to first of all state that, while he hadn’t just keeled over from nerves yet, it had been nearly a year since Noctis had disappeared. It was well-known by now throughout Lucis that he was gone―but it had been a year and no one could recall for certain seeing the prince… Except for Wiz Forlane, the chocobo ranch owner, and a ferry captain, neither of whom were particularly forthcoming on where he’d gone, if they knew. Regis didn’t want to simply let it go, but what could he do? Forcing them to tell him wouldn’t go over well with the general public and especially not with Noctis.

His options were dismally limited.

Still, the general consensus was that Noctis had fled the country and no one was really sure where. The three letters he’d sent to the Oracle asking if she’d seen the missing prince were replied to in the negative with an off-handed air uncharacteristic of her, so that was a dead end, and though he’d sent a small patrol of Crownsguard to Accordo they hadn’t seen him in the months they’d been there and had returned home last week.

Unsuccessful.

He wasn’t there.

And Regis was  _ this _ close to pulling his fucking hair out.

At this point, his options, as he said, were dismally limited. He couldn’t contact Niflheim directly to ask after his son. He was hesitant to send a troupe of Crownsguard to Tenebrae and publicly question Lady Lunafreya’s answers to his letters. Noctis  _ obviously _ wasn’t in Lucis unless he was hiding in some cave far off the beaten paths of the country, and he couldn’t afford to continue sending the majority of his people to scour the wilderness for the wayward prince.

If he could count the amount of times he’d broadcast requests for Noctis to come home so that they could talk and work out the issue…

Well, he could, actually.

He’d broadcast exactly 27 of them.

And, so far, Noctis hadn’t given any obvious replies―except for the very obvious reply given by his  _ lack _ of a reply. He wasn’t coming back to talk.

Regis wouldn’t lie―he wasn’t a great person. He’d done very bad things. He still  _ did _ bad things. But that was his  _ job. _ As king, he had to make tough decisions for the betterment of his country. He hadn’t  _ liked _ doing the experiments. He had simply gotten used to them over time. And Prompto… Well, that had never been a matter of wanting to hurt or scare him. He hated how quickly it had seemed to become that to an outside party.

He supposed, however, that not getting defensive as soon as Noctis broached the subject and spoke out to defend his friend  _ may _ have helped Noctis trust him enough not to run.

Hindsight was 20/20, though, of course.

There were a lot of things he should have said or done that night that he hadn’t, and many more that he shouldn’t have. His response―his insistence that Prompto was a big boy and could handle it… He would very much like to reach back through time and smack himself, frankly. He was almost certain that  _ that, _ that dismissal of Prompto’s comfort and mental health, had been the thing that turned Noctis against him for certain. And given he’d had more than enough time to think about it, to consider how he perhaps  _ should _ have responded…

That dismissal was enough to turn  _ himself _ against him.

What kind of king was he, really?

_ Should have talked it through with Noctis. _ He thought, uselessly.  _ Should have found a way that was less uncomfortable. _

“Regis.” Clarus’ voice broke him from his thoughts.

He realized, suddenly, that he’d been there, waiting, for quite some time.

“Yes?”

Clarus’ expression betrayed no annoyance or hurt, but Regis  _ knew _ his lack of a response before now stung. He knew Clarus well enough for that.

“Gladiolus and Ignis,” Clarus began, and Regis felt his blood run cold before more was said. Was this bad news? “Have returned to the Citadel. Cor and I have been discussing the potential dangers of sending them to Tenebrae.”

Regis relaxed a bit, nodding along wearily.

The two remaining members of the prince’s retinue, about three months into Noctis’ absence, had walked boldly right out of the Citadel in broad daylight and returned to what he could assume had been their normal lives when they weren’t on duty  _ prior _ to the Prince absconding with his friend. Since they were very open and obvious about what they were doing and never once tried to leave the city, it was allowed without issue. He didn’t know what they’d been up to the past several months, but they hadn’t done anything untoward enough for the various guards to feel it was important to mention it to Cor so he imagined they’d just been living as most twenty-somethings did on their salary.

He wasn’t sure what to think of them returning to the Citadel.

“They no longer seem to be outright hostile with each other, and Gladiolus actually spoke to me without so much as narrowing his eyes, so their tempers seem to have calmed considerably in the last few months. Cor believes sending them with some glaives to Tenebrae would not be detrimental. I am hard-pressed to disagree.”

Regis considered this.

Truly, if Noctis had ignored  _ him _ for nearly a year, he was angry and intent on not being caught. Regis could no longer blame him for that. But there was a very high chance that he  _ wouldn’t _ outright ignore his retainers, particularly his Shield who he seemed to have gone out of his way not to get into trouble. If nothing else they may be able to convince him to send a letter back with them, if not to return.

He was still hesitant to send them, especially with only  _ glaives, _ of course. Ignis and Gladiolus were both highly trained and terrifyingly strong, especially together. It was one of the reasons that they were allowed to comprise the majority of Noctis’ retinue without a group of glaives to back them up. It was pretty much common knowledge that they were capable of cutting down nearly a platoon each of glaives. Gladiolus would barely break a sweat.

But, then, if they turned against the glaives then they would at least be easier to find than Noctis.

… And, come to think of it, part of their ruthless efficiency in fighting had come from being able to readily summon weapons from Noctis’ Armiger, and he’d cut them off from it very early on.

They may not be as much of a threat, now―not that they wouldn’t still be able to best most of his glaives.

Finally, he nodded again. “I cannot see why it would be an issue. If Noctis will not listen to me…”

“Perhaps he will listen to his brothers.” Clarus finished with a nod of his own.

“Perhaps.” He agreed, then sighed. “I’ll allow it.”

Clarus nodded again, preparing to leave.

“We should―” Regis hesitated, watching Clarus pause and cock his head and an eyebrow at him. “... It’s been a log time since we had dinner together,” He said, lamely.

His Shield stared for a moment, then, slowly, his expression shifted to one of soft amusement. “Tonight,” He promised, “If you’re not too busy.”

“I will make time,” He promised in return, relaxing.

The way Clarus’ face seemed to brighten without his smile visibly getting larger made Regis want to grin. But he carefully avoided doing so, knowing Clarus would be able to tell. They shared a look for another moment, and Regis felt warm for the span of time it lasted before Clarus finally turned away to leave.

_ Tonight _ . He promised himself.

He would not let anything stop him.

At least  _ one _ thing in his life was easily remedied. At least he still had this, with his son gone.

It didn’t stop the pain―it couldn’t. Clarus and Noctis were both important to him, that wasn’t ever even a question, but they had very different  _ types _ of importance to him. He loved them both dearly, but Clarus couldn’t fill the place Noctis was supposed to and Noctis couldn’t fill Clarus’. But having Clarus around still  _ helped _ . The pain didn’t stop but it could be put aside for a moment.

He could only hope that he could at least re-establish contact with Noctis.

For now, that was all he could ask.

He could work on making sure Lucis would have a viable option for King after he was no longer fit to rule  _ later. _ It wouldn’t do to try and make up with Noctis if Noctis thought he was trying just so that Lucis would have a King. And Lucis having a king may have been important, but he had it covered for now.

That said, though, by the  _ Six, _ he was exhausted…

Keeping the Wall up was exhausting. Looking for his son was exhausting.

He needed rest.

But, first, he needed to make sure he made it to dinner tonight.

He could worry about cancelling the rest of tonight’s appointments  _ after _ that, and if he needed another few hours he could push his morning appointments a little later. He was the King. He could totally do that.


	23. Visiting Nobles

Luna spent the majority of the day after that assisting the two of them in blending in a little better with the other, natural-born Tenebrasian servants. As the chocobo-caretakers they of course had separate uniforms to don, but she ran them through the steps of looking less important and not attracting attention. The last thing they needed was a Niflheim official recognizing Noctis because he accidentally drew attention to himself.

“Will you be alright spending most of his visit outside?” Luna fretted that night, having spent the last thirty minutes trying to alleviate his nausea and general unease with and without her powers. “Will that make it worse?”

“As long as the chocobos mind, it won’t be a problem,” He promised her, “Don’t waste your energy on worrying about me, Luna.”

Still fretting, but less visibly, she eventually retired to her own quarters and he and Prompto to theirs.

* * *

Ardyn arrived first thing the next morning, bringing with him a blond around his age that Noctis didn’t recognize on sight.

Then again, he only recognized _Ardyn_ because Luna had described him.

Based on the slightly pinched expression on Luna’s face when she greeted them, she hadn’t been expecting his tagalong. She threw glances at him and Prompto where they were quietly walking the chocobos around the perimeter of the Manor, and they met them here and there. Noctis was still very sick to his stomach, of course, haunted by those glowing golden eyes dripping blackness and creating demons in the dark and well aware that something bad was going to happen, but at least the chicks were minding them and not trying too hard to run ahead or drag him around.

Ardyn’s presence forced Noctis to wear his sun-hat despite it being fairly cloudy day, and the constant changes in brightness when he had to look up the yard at the Manor and then look back down at the chocobos was giving him a hellish migraine. He was regretting his decision to not just stay inside, but…

Well, better safe than sorry.

He wanted to be here if something went wrong―not just for Prompto’s sake, but for Luna’s. Ravus wasn’t here and that made Noctis and Prompto the most capable fighters and the only two the others left over would listen to on pain of Ravus’ wrath when he inevitably returned from Niflheim.

That Ardyn had chosen to visit the first time in nearly a year that Ravus had left the Manor didn’t bode well with Noctis. It was almost as if he _knew._

And if he _knew_ then there was the immediate issue that _he_ might be part of what Noctis was sensing. If both he and his tagalong were from Niflheim, it would certainly explain why he was seeing daemons. Everyone knew Niflheim experimented with daemons. Some said they even _made_ them, sometimes.

The potential future Noctis was seeing here wasn’t exactly a bright one.

He and Prompto did their very best to steer clear of the Chancellor and his plus one, as Luna had asked them to, and Noctis only made more sure t hat they stayed away when he finally got a good look at the guy with Ardyn. He looked so uncomfortably like Prompto…

He plopped a wide-brimmed hat on Prompto’s head barely three hours into Ardyn’s visit and Prompto didn’t question it.

They took their meals that day outside in the chocobo fields, leaned up against the fence and generally well out of the way of everyone else. Noctis barely ate―he didn’t think he could keep more than a few bites down, if he was honest. And it was hard enough to keep _those_ down without fearing he’d lose them.

Prompto didn’t comment on how little he ate, but Noctis didn’t miss the way that he furrowed his brows in concern when he noticed most of Noctis’ sandwich at lunch, and his soup at dinner, had gone uneaten.

They managed to avoid Ardyn’s notice for the day, however, and Noctis couldn’t have been more relieved. He wouldn’t put recognizing him even as he was past the Chancellor of Niflheim. There was talk of the Chancellor just _knowing_ things. Just being able to _tell._ And in the last year he’d heard enough about him to be wary, even without that.

He struggled to fall asleep, thinking of that. He couldn’t very well avoid Ardyn the entire time he was here, could he? That would make him seem disrespectful… But even a single glance or snatch of eye contact could give him away.

If only he didn’t look so much like the rest of his family.

When he managed, at last, to fall asleep, he dreamed of darkness―it wasn’t the same as not dreaming. It wasn’t just the pitch blackness of dreamlessness. It was something _else._ Something sinister. There were distant, vague shapes. There were noises. Voices. He didn’t recognize most of it, couldn’t make out what was being said or what was around him. He felt things brushing past him, felt cold and warm and _scared._

He woke, sweating, just as the sun began to peek in through his curtains.

The bad feeling was still there, just as he’d expected.

He tried to ignore it and took a shower no matter how dizzy the hot water made him. He needed to stay clean. He’d only feel worse if he stewed in his filth, and on the off-chance he _did_ meet Ardyn he needed to not stink. He was a _noble._ Noctis hadn’t been away from Insomnia and his duties long enough to shirk everything he’d learned about interacting with other nobles.

He dressed in his uniform and met Prompto on the way out to the fields. They ate a quick breakfast while the chocobos ate theirs, and prepared to exercise and then groom them. They had to be helped with preening their feathers at this age, and it would greatly benefit them to have a bath and some oil rubbed into their feathers. At a year old they _should_ have picked up on how to dust-bathe and preen their own feathers from Fancy and Magnus, but either they hadn’t picked up on it yet or they just preferred to have help.

Either way, he and Prompto had their hands full this morning.

Despite his nausea, Noctis was the one to haul out the bathing tubs and begin filling them with water. Prompto took on exercising the chicks as he did, and Noctis got ready to have to try and keep the little spitfires still while they bathed them. They’d never actually _bathed_ them before, but Six knew they needed it. Especially after they’d spent the winter cooped up in the stables.

He knew Fancy and Magnus weren’t fond of water, and since chocobos rarely _bathed_ in water he was sure that he’d have to convince the chicks water wasn’t the devil incarnate. He’d just have to hold them as still as he could. Prompto could deal with the actual washing of them.

That’d work, right?

Yeah.

It’d have to.

When both tubs were filled, one with soapy water and the other with clear water for rinsing, they got started.

… It was an adventure.

And it was cold enough that Noctis wasn’t willing to let he and Prompto nor any of the chicks just sit around to dry, so he had to improvise something to warm them up and dry them. He didn’t want any of them sick―it was bad enough that _he_ was what most people would consider sick. He still had a fever.

He made sure there was no one around to see and summoned a flicker of flames in his hand, then summoned up a strong enough breeze to, essentially, magically blow-dry the chicks. They happily crowded up to the warm air and let him get them completely dry. Prompto fluffed them a couple of times to make sure they were completely dry, and then they had the fun task of making sure they’d gotten all the broken or loose feathers out.

It took a good couple of hours to actually finish with bathing and grooming the chicks, including getting their feathers oiled up. Rajah at least seemed to be picking up on how to preen his feathers, because once he realized what they were doing to the others he began to pull out his own bad feathers. They left him to it.

Prompt and Noctis were huddled together around a handheld flame afterwards, warming their cold fingers and noses and waiting for the sun to emerge from behind the cloud cover so it would warm up outside when they heard it. Footsteps.

Noctis snuffed the flame immediately, on edge and worried for his and Prompto’s safety even without the bad feeling. With Ardyn here they were both in danger.

He peeked discreetly over his shoulder, and seeing that it was one of Luna’s maids he relaxed a little.

“Ms. Angelus,” He greeted her, turning to face her completely and giving a slight bow, “What brings you down to the fields?”

She curtsied to him somewhat, then threw a glance over her shoulder. “Mr. Sveso, Mr. Maursus, our Lady sent me to warn you―Chancellor Izunia plans to visit the fields very soon. She wished you be ready for his arrival, so you were not caught off guard.”

He barely suppressed a curse, locking his jaw for a second to avoid letting it escape. He saw Cyril stiffen a little.

“I see,” He said aloud, when he could unlock his jaw, “Thank you for the warning, Nereida. Please pass my thanks to our Lady, as well.”

Ms. Angelus nodded and curtsied again, pausing briefly before she turned back to the Manor. “Vel,” She said, “I believe he is bringing his guest with him.”

“Do you know who his guest is?” He asked, lowering his voice.

Her face was grim when she nodded. “Verstael Besithia. The Minister for Research. He looks very much like Cyril―it worries me.”

“It worries me as well,” Vel admitted, uncomfortable. Why would the Chancellor be here? Why would he bring the Minister for Research? What were they _looking for?_ “But I am sure we will manage. Thank you again.”

She curtsied one last time, and Vel was already turning to Cyril before she was gone.

“This is an issue.” He admitted in a sigh.

Cyril nodded along. “Is that why you put the hat on me yesterday? Because the Minister looks like me?”

“Yeah. He looks too much like you for it to be comfortable.” He took a breath. “If you can keep your face hidden while they’re here, however it is that you have to do it…”

Cyril bit his lip, “... Maybe I’d be better off taking Fancy for a walk?” He suggested, and Vel knew very well that the hesitance in his suggestion wasn’t from worry of his own safety. It was from worry for Vel’s.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Vel agreed, easily.

As much as he’d hate to have Cyril out of his sight, he’d prefer he be away from the Chancellor. As far away from the Chancellor as he could get while staying on the Manor grounds.

(He ignored the part of himself that got scared that it was a setup, that for whatever reason they were being driven to separate from each other. He couldn’t afford to think like that. He needed to be of sound mind when he made decisions.)

Cyril nodded to him and quietly saddled up Fancy.

He was gone within the next few minutes, and Noctis tried to occupy himself checking the chicks over for any dry skin or a bad feather they’d missed before. He made sure to check Rajah the most―but all of them were clean and clear, and Rajah puffed with pride when he found no feathers that needed to be assisted with.

The ruby chick reminded him very much of Gladio, if he was honest.

Bigger than the other four, headstrong, and eager to do things right the first time.

It settled his nerves just a little, thinking about Gladio.

He missed Gladio.

But it was for the best that he wasn’t here.

“Well,” Came a new voice, quite suddenly, and he almost jumped out of his skin.

He glanced over his shoulder and, seeing the Chancellor standing there, quickly rose and kept his head down enough to obscure his eyes. It was always the eyes of Lucis Caelums that gave them away―that was what his father had always told him. He regretted not thinking to get colored contacts or something. This wouldn’t be near as nerve-wracking if he had some.

“I see the rumors were true,” The Chancellor continued, “This is quite a quaint little chocobo farm the Oracle has decided to fund.”

“Chancellor Izunia,” Vel greeted, bowing as he knew was expected of him, “Had I known to expect you I’d have refrained from sitting on the ground.”

That got a laugh from the Chancellor, who grinned at him. “May I?” He asked, gesturing to the gate.

Vel swiftly crossed the short expanse of field between himself and the gate and pulled it open, “Of course, Chancellor.”

“Please,” Said the Chancellor, as he entered the field, “Do call me Ardyn.”

“As you wish, sir.”

Magnus, Vel noticed, seemed uneasy the moment Ardyn crossed into the field. The chocobo began to shift a little, narrowing his eyes.

Vel filed that away for later.

“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage,” Ardyn admitted, after pausing to survey the chicks. He smiled, “I don’t quite think Lady Lunafreya provided me with your name.”

He bowed again, in response to that, “Vel Sveso, at your service.”

This close, Vel couldn’t help noticing that Ardyn’s hair curled in much the same way that his did. Loosely, below the brim of his hat. For a noble, his hair actually looked a little wild. And he had a strong jaw, like his father did―really, he had a _very_ similar face to King Regis. He wasn’t sure what to make of that.

And he got so caught up in surveying him that he nearly forgot to keep his head down.

“Is that so?” Ardyn asked, casually, “Well, it’s very good to meet you, Vel. You’re from Lucis, are you not?”

“I suppose the accent gave me away,” Vel tried to smile, ducking his head a little further.

“Oh, just a bit.” Ardyn granted, “And I’ve been hearing a lot of talk about how you and your partner came here from Lucis nearly a year ago with two adult chocobos and two crates they were fairly sure had chicks in them.”

Vel’s smile turned a bit more genuine. He was a little surprised that there were people talking about him, but… Well. He _was_ the chocobo caretaker employed by the Oracle. He guessed that gave him a bit of a status, especially since he took trips into town frequently enough for people to still be acquainted with him.

“Yes, we brought them as a favor to the ranch-owner back in Lucis―we were already on our way to Tenebrae, and he had spoken of wanting to try and establish a ranch in Tenebrae.”

“So you brought them.” Ardyn gathered, then chuckled.

Something felt wrong, suddenly. More wrong than everything felt _before._

Because, first of all, Ardyn’s smile did _not_ look friendly anymore. And second? Vel had just processed that he hadn’t brought his guest with him. Which meant that Verstael was somewhere else. And he may have been right in thinking there had been a deliberate attempt to split them up. Mother _fucker._

His stomach knotted up and he only just barely managed not to double over and throw up right then and there. Too much paranoia and fear on top of the bad feeling’s nausea…

Oh, this wasn’t good.

“But, tell me truthfully, _Vel,_ ” The emphasis on the name made his stomach roll again, “What is a Lucian doing migrating to Tenebrae and haunting the chocobo ranch at the same time their darling prince went missing? Particularly a Lucian who looks so _very_ much like the royalty―I hear you have some _otherwordly_ blue eyes.”

Vel didn’t get a chance to reply before Ardyn was moving.

The other crowded right into his personal space, knocking his hat right off of his head and grasping his chin in none-too-gentle fingers.

It was only force of will that kept him from summoning his sword and driving it through the Chancellor’s gut right then and there. As it was, he stood still. He stood as still as he could and felt his stomach rolling dangerously. Felt his skin crawling where Ardyn’s fingers gripped his chin.

“Prince Noctis,” Crooned the man, “You _are_ quite a long way from home, aren’t you?”

He swallowed, and just like that, Vel Sveso stopped existing for the moment. Noctis straightened his back, knowing that he could not lie his way out of this situation, and looked directly into Ardyn’s eyes. He planted his feet and drew his chin up of his own volition―Ardyn’s grip didn’t loosen, hand moving with Noctis’ chin.

“Chancellor Izunia,” He replied, coldly, “You’d do very well to release me.”

And Ardyn _laughed._

It was not a sound Noctis cherished.

It was cold and cruel, and were he not forcing himself to fall back on all of that royal court training he’d gotten he’d have shivered. He’d have shivered hard. And if he weren’t trained to stick it out in uncomfortable situations, he may well have been running away with his tail between his legs already. That seemed, really, like the safest idea.

But Ardyn laughed and he stood still and the man released his chin and took a step away.

“How irresponsible,” The Chancellor admonished, “Running away from your destiny like this―don’t you know that the world will need you one day very soon, your Majesty?”

 _Highness,_ Noctis mentally corrected immediately. He closed his mouth against the urge to say it out loud. And then he realized that the Chancellor would _know_ that. He shouldn’t need to correct him. So why had he…

Oh.

He knew about the prophecy.

He knew that Noctis was meant to be the True King. The one meant to purge the Starscourge from the world. He called him _Majesty_ instead of _Highness_ on purpose. He didn’t see him as the prince of Lucis. He saw him as the Chosen King.

It made his stomach roll again.

And then it made his blood boil.

Seriously? Even the _Niffs_ expected him to take that destiny in stride? He’d bet they were still banking on his marriage to Luna getting them somewhere with Lucis. And he’d bet they were actively trying to prevent him from purging the Starscourge.

Six, the fucking _nerve._

He’d praise the Six all day long for letting him stay this far away from Lucis without being caught yet, sure, but he had no intention of fighting their battle for them if it meant going back to Lucis. Going back to his _father._ To his experiments. He couldn’t (wouldn’t) leave Prompto here to deal with the chocobos, so there was no way for him to even go back to begin with, because he was _not_ taking Prompto back to that. Really, he’d like to speak to whichever Astral had decided his and Prompto’s fates, because he’d very much like to punch the fucker in the mouth.

“I’m not running from my destiny,” He said aloud, instead of any of that. “I’m running from my father.”

“Not fond of the King?” Ardyn asked, voice dripping with fake sweetness.

“Not after he started experimenting with daemons and dragged my best friend into it, no.” Noctis replied, flatly.

Ardyn’s brows rose. Altogether, his surprise seemed much more genuine than anything else Noctis had seen from him.

“This would be Cyril, then?”

“Prompto.” Noctis corrected, unthinking, “But you’d know him as Cyril, yes.”

“... And dear King Regis was experimenting with _daemons,_ you say?” Ardyn cocked his head to the side.

“Oh, he says he was intending something else.” He rolled his eyes, “But I’m not sure how much of that I believe, given he hid the experiments _and_ Prompto’s involvement from from me for nearly two years before his scientists managed to create a daemon and Prompto hid in my room for roughly three days afterwards and spilled the beans against my father’s orders.”

Ardyn seemed… Disturbingly interested. Noctis didn’t like it.

“Well,” Said the Chancellor, looking a little thoughtful, “I suppose I can’t blame you for running away from that.” He looked around, briefly, and leaned in conspiratorially, “Nor would I really hold trying to escape your destiny against you―but let me tell you, one royal of the illustrious kingdom of Lucis to another: you will not get far. Bahamut will not allow you to shirk your duties, Highness.”

 _‘One royal of the illustrious kingdom of Lucis to another’…? What the_ **_fuck_ ** _is he talking about?_

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He winced―hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Whoops.

But Ardyn just laughed and rolled his shoulders and there was a brief second where the air seemed to shimmer around him. Noctis stared, unable to make himself blink. And suddenly, Ardyn was no longer standing before him. Instead, Noctis found himself staring at… Himself?

Shapeshifting―or illusion.

Either way, it was powerful magic.

And magic of that magnitude wasn’t typically found outside of the Lucis Caelum or Nox Fleuret families.

… Which meant Ardyn Izunia wasn’t Ardyn _Izunia._ He had to be a Lucis Caelum, because males of House Fleuret didn’t inherit magic that strong. If they ended up with any, it was tame in comparison to the Oracle or a Lucis Caelum. They usually didn’t have the ability to cast illusions or shapeshift.

It was pretty standard fare for any Lucis Caelum who actually took an interest in using their magic and trained with it.

… Noctis had left before Regis had started teaching him how to do anything more advanced than harnessing the elements.

“Okay.” He said, “Cool. Nice meeting you, Uncle Ardyn.”

Ardyn seemed to choke on his next inward breath, wheezing out a disbelieving, _“Uncle Ardyn?”_ while Noctis turned to pick his hat up off the ground and put it back on to protect him from the sun starting to come in through the clouds.

“Don’t suppose I could twist your arm and get you to show me how to do that?” He asked, and Ardyn was himself again when he glanced over his shoulder at him, “I kinda bailed before his Majesty got the time to teach me anything past elemental magic.”

Ardyn blinked, then smiled. “Oh, I believe I could be swayed,”

And Noctis tried very hard not to think about the other thing Ardyn had said―tried hard not to consider that Bahamut might take offense to his choices. Might try to force him to go back.

He was _seventeen._

This was ridiculous!

 _He was_ **_seventeen_ ** _,_ how and _why_ did they expect him to do any of this? Why was this _his_ responsibility? It made him sick.

But this was not the time to think about it, regardless. So he just took Ardyn’s surprisingly permissive response in stride and, shrugging as he made sure his hat kept the sun out of his eyes, said, “Lit.”

* * *

Prompto got as far as the front lawn with Fancy, leading him by the reins, before he found himself directly in the path of the Minister for Research.

He ducked his head immediately, wishing he’d had the forethought to go back to his and Noctis’ chambers to grab the hat Noctis had flopped onto his head yesterday.

Fuck.

_Fuck._

_Fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuckfuuuuck._

He kept his head down, tried to steer Fancy in a different direction without being obvious about it, but he’d been spotted already. _Shit._ Oh, today was going great. Today was going just fucking _peachy._

But, hey, maybe the Minister wasn’t a particularly talkative guy! Maybe he could just sidle on by him without having to have a conversation. He wasn’t like Noctis―he had a hard time acting like he was someone else. It was already enough of a struggle to put on a smile when he didn’t have any reason he could think of to smile. How was he supposed to be anyone who _wouldn’t_ accidentally reveal Noctis and himself the moment there was too much pressure?

Ugh.

He kept his head down and tried to go ahead and guide Fancy past him.

“Minister,” He acknowledged softly, ducking his head further in the best approximation of a bow that he could give.

“I wasn’t aware that Lunafreya had access to a Magitek soldier,” The Minister said, off-handed but certainly interested. “Though I suppose it’s not unlikely that the Commander made off with you for her.”

All at once, Prompto’s mind redirected to his wrist. To―

He grit his teeth, kept his head down, and said, “All due respect, Minister, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Indeed?”

Prompto glanced up to see the Minister raising a brow, looking genuinely taken aback and even more interested than he’d seemed before. It made his skin crawl.

And it made him realize that Noctis and Nereida had been correct. Minister Besithia _did_ look strikingly like him. Like a brother, almost. An uncle at the absolute highest level of removal. His stomach rolled forcefully. Seeing that same blond hair, same blue eyes, same general smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose that Prompto himself had had before he started spending all this time out in the sun… It wasn’t good. He didn’t like it. Besithia looked like _him_ and that was unsettling enough even without the fact he looked just barely old enough to be his _father._

“I suppose you do appear to be more self-aware and in control of yourself than any of my units.” The Minister granted, giving him a very thorough once-over. “Where are you from?”

“... I moved to Tenebrae from Lucis, Minister.” He replied, and regretted that this was one member of royal or otherwise noble blood that he couldn’t speak plainly to.

“From Lucis?” The Minister raised his brow. “I see.”

And Prompto did _not_ like the way that he said it. Not at _all_.

“... May I continue walking my chocobo, Minister? As thrilling a conversation as this is, he hasn’t had a real chance to stretch for most of the winter.”

“Oh, of course, of course,” The Minister waved his hands in dismissal, “This would be best discussed at a later date, regardless. A pleasure chatting with you.”

And he _smiled_ and Prompto didn’t think he’d ever seen a smile look so devoid of warmth or feeling. There was just this particular _vibe_ it gave off, but it wasn’t a feeling he could identify. He ignored it the best he could.

He smiled in reply, bowed in that half-assed way he had before, and said, “Thank you, Minister. The pleasure was mine.”

And he took Fancy slowly away from the area, struggling not to act as if anything was wrong. But that… He had to admit that freaked him out. His heart was pounding. He was shaking. This was like something out of a _nightmare._ The Minister’s words put a few too many things into perspective for him and frankly? It was making the skin of his wrist crawl.

He couldn’t rub at it under the bracelet Noctis gave him, couldn’t scratch and dig his fingernails in. Not like he could with the old wristband. Not without taking the bracelet off and defeating the purpose of wearing it to begin with.

Thankfully, rubbing his fingers over the metal, and the little heart engravings that met just over the worst of the discomfort, settled his nerves a little. He pressed his thumb against one of the engravings, pressed hard enough for it to start to hurt, and tried to breathe. No matter how much this shook him, he…

The truth couldn’t hurt Noctis _that_ badly, could it?

After all he’d done for Prompto, he’d hate to repay him with this, but… If Noctis loved him as much as he said he did (and he was hard-pressed to believe otherwise, considering Noctis had put himself in literal life-threatening danger just to get him away from something that scared him and made him uncomfortable, and had stuck with him through it for nearly a year, and had given him this bracelet with the little “ _you’re my person ♡”_ engraving just because he noticed not having a decent bracelet made him uncomfortable), then this… This shouldn’t _end_ things, right?

Surely not.

He was Noctis’ person.

Deep breath.

He checked over his shoulder, and the Minister had disappeared into the Manor.

No better time.

He slung himself into Fancy’s saddle and booked it back toward the Fields. He may not talk to Noctis about this today, but being around him… It might make him feel better. Maybe help him remember how things were. The conversation with the Minister unsettled him and brought all too likely answers to lifelong questions he had, and made him want to just cut his hand off below the wrist to get rid of the constant reminder he wasn’t _normal_ and he might well be exactly what Minister Besithia implied. He wouldn’t deny any of that. He hated thinking any of it could be true―hated that he’d thought it _before_.

He needed to be around Noctis. He needed to be reminded that even if any of it was true he was…

He was loved.

He was appreciated.

He was _trusted_ and no possible circumstance of birth would make Noctis trust him any less.

_… Right?_

He hated the doubt bubbling in his gut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aight so the deal with Verstael being young(ish) and still blond in this fic is just primarily like... Timeline stuff and also that I'm pretty sure part of the reason he looked Like That(tm) was because he was becoming a demon and it was was messing w/ his appearance the longer it went on. I'm not _against_ his canon appearance at all (because it was A+ design) but since that's what I think was happening and it's not happening in this fic... Yeah. ~~And also it made more sense for later stuff if he actually still looks like Prompto.~~  
>  As for Ardyn, I feel like he may have come off a little too friendly, but this is _Ardyn_ , and it's Ardyn being presented a chance for things to turn out differently, and, you know... Noctis caught him off-guard.


	24. Search Party

The past several months had been highly cathartic.

When Gladio had suggested the idea that they walk out of the Citadel to Ignis, the other man had hesitated, but eventually agreed. They’d left together, went back to their normal lives.

Or, well, the closest to normal they could get.

Ignis wasn’t allowed to continue his work as Noctis’ future advisor,  _ obviously, _ so he had to spend most of his time reading and rearranging his apartment. He also spent more time and money than was healthy honing his cooking skills―Gladio hadn’t really thought his cooking could better, but after a few months more or less cooped up in his apartment cooking whatever struck his fancy his cookbook had expanded and his usual dishes seemed to have just… This something  _ better _ about them. He had time and passion and supplies aplenty, of course, so Gladio wasn’t surprised.

He hadn’t been able to do  _ anything, _ personally, aside from go to the gym or hit up whatever shops he could that didn’t immediately remind him of Noctis or Prompto. Both activities got tired quickly, and saw him spending a lot of time with Ignis again. Eating a lot of his cooking, listening to a lot of his rather spirited rants, and throwing popcorn at the TV with him while they watched bad soap operas and cooking shows.

Still, aside from the feeling that everything in their lives was rather stagnant, it had felt good to just be  _ people _ for a while.

And, sure, they’d had a hell of a screaming match when the dam finally broke and they couldn’t dodge around Noctis’ decision to flee the city anymore. They yelled so loud their throats hurt and whatever Ignis was feeling through the fight was so intense that he  _ cried. _

Gladio had never seen him cry before.

But in the end, they’d felt better. They’d screamed it out and then they’d talked it out over tea with honey, and things had settled. Gladio was still  _ mad, _ but Ignis’ position made more and more sense the longer Noctis was gone and by the time they fought he wasn’t even really angry at Ignis anymore. He just needed to get it all out of his head.

And at some point after that, things had changed, and for the better.

He kept Ignis’ hand in his as they waited to be seen by Cor and Clarus.

They hadn’t really had a plan, when they came back. They’d just figured they’d had long enough vacations, really―they needed to find something to do. Needed to get back to work. Maybe there was something they could help with that wouldn’t put them directly in the line of all the top secret crap they used to deal with. They’d just have to wait and find out.

But then his dad had greeted him and taken them to one of the conference rooms Gladio knew that they used as makeshift command centers when it was necessary, and they’d been told to wait.

So they were waiting.

Finally, it was Cor who came to see them.

Ignis squeezed his hand.

He squeezed back.

“Gladiolus, Ignis,” Cor greeted, and he looked exhausted, but pleased to see them. “You couldn’t have come at a better time.”

“I suppose this means you have some kind of mission for us?” Ignis asked.

Gladio suppressed the urge to be angry. They’d wanted something to do, and from the way things seemed Cor had  _ known _ about the experiments, but hadn’t approved. That was enough to sort of level off his anger. And if he just knew  _ why _ the experiments had happened, he might be able to level off the final dredges of it about the entire situation.

Whatever.

“Yes, and we’ve just gotten approval from the King to even suggest it.” He paused, looking them over, “... We have reason to believe that Noctis is in Tenebrae, despite the Oracle’s insistence he is not. If you would agree, we would send you to look for him and bear a letter from his Majesty requesting that Noctis at least begin correspondence with him, so he can try to explain things and figure out what he needs to do to convince Noctis that he and Prompto are safe here.”

“I imagine no experiments would make them feel pretty safe,” Gladio uttered before he could stop himself.

Cor huffed, tiredly amused. “And the promise of no danger to Prompto for telling Noctis the truth, no doubt.” He agreed.

Ignis glanced up at him, and he met his eyes.

Gladio couldn’t see much reason  _ not _ to go―even if Noctis was furious with Ignis he probably still trusted him enough to not fight or flee on sight. And given he’d gone out of his way to make sure Gladio didn’t get caught up in his escape and get in trouble, he clearly wasn’t angry with Gladio.

But Gladio was only one half of the pair, and if Ignis said no then Gladio wasn’t going. He wasn’t going to leave Ignis here.

Apparently whatever Ignis saw in his eyes was sufficient, because the man broke eye contact and, uncharacteristically, chewed at his lip.

“Could we perhaps be given time to mull it over?” Ignis requested, “I don’t imagine it will take terribly much for us to reach a decision, but…”

“But you’d like to discuss it privately,” Cor suggested, quirking a brow.

“If it’s no trouble.”

“It’s not.” Cor assured him, and then he ducked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

“... I can’t see a reason not to go.” Gladio said, when he was sure Cor was gone, “Even if we don’t find Noct, I’m sure he’ll know we were looking. He might even come find  _ us. _ ”

Ignis nodded, but he looked troubled.

Gladio squeezed his hand again.

“I’m just concerned,” Ignis admitted, “That they’re willing to allow us out of the city. Surely they won’t send us  _ alone… _ How are we to find Noctis and have him trust us if we’re tailed by glaives or Crownsguard the whole time?”

“This is Noctis,” Gladio assured him, gently, “He’ll trust us whether we have guards with us or not. He’ll just try not to engage until he finds a blind spot in their, you know, guard.”

“If he is in Tenebrae…” Ignis uttered, after a brief silence, “And he left when the rumors say he did, I… That is a level of planning and grit I admit I didn’t expect from our beloved prince.”

“Turns out he’s a smart little brat,” Gladio nodded.

There was another moment of silence, and Ignis squeezed his hand progressively harder as it went on. He disengaged their fingers, watched Ignis look concerned for a second (maybe taken aback), and scooped him into a tight hug.

“We don’t have to,” He reminded him, softly.

“I know.” Ignis sighed, relaxing into his hold and pressing his face into his neck. “I want to.”

“So do I.”

“... Then we’re going?”

“I guess so.”

Neither of them moved for a while.

And then, taking deep breaths, they pulled away to wait for Cor to return, so they could deliver their answer.

* * *

The preparations were finished by morning.

They set out for Galdin Quay when the sun was just peeking over the horizon.

Iggy hadn’t slept―too caught up in planning and packing―, so Gladio pulled him against his chest in the back of the car and held him. Put him right to sleep. Gladio dozed a bit on the way, as well, but Ignis was out like a light.

It was for the best.

By late afternoon they’d be at the first train station, and there was no way that Ignis was going to be able to sleep on a crowded ferry or relax on the train as it traveled through the night. He needed to sleep while he could.

Gladio would watch out for him.


	25. Heart-to-Heart

Ardyn was on his way away from the chocobo fields when Noctis saw Prompto making a beeline toward him on Fancy’s back.

They hopped the fence and Prompto had scarcely dismounted before he threw himself into Noctis’ chest.

Noctis didn’t even have time to process it, really. The first thing that went through his head about it was that Prompto was shaking―that was enough to set his protective instinct into overdrive. He wrapped his arms around him, pulled him close, and resisted the urge to squeeze him too hard. Prompto responded by knotting his hands in the back of his jacket and burying his face in his neck.

He didn’t say anything.

He didn’t seem  _ hurt, _ just shaken.

… Extremely shaken.

“You okay?” He asked, quietly, when Prompto didn’t burst into tears or start talking on his own.

Prompto took a shaking breath in reply, and Noctis decided to drop it. Prompto would tell him eventually. For now he’d just hold him. That was all that Prompto seemed to be asking of him right now. He could do that.

There was silence, only interrupted by shaking breaths, for a long time. Prompto didn’t speak and Noctis didn’t try to make him. There was no reason to try and force it, and he wasn’t sure that trying to distract him with talking was the right course of action right now. He just had to wait it out to be sure, wait it out and make sure that Prompto felt like he wasn’t in danger.

“I just,” Prompto finally managed to breathe, “I don’t want to think right now.”

“Okay.” Noctis said, gently, “Then let’s do something you don’t have to think about.”

He tried to pretend he wasn’t as worried as he was―no matter how much of a red flag that was, he needed to be the strong one right now. He could do that.

Prompto silently nodded his agreement and pulled back to look at him with big, worried blue eyes.

Smiling gently, Noctis led him back to the gates, “Wait here for a sec, okay?”

And Prompto waited.

He finished up with the chocobos as quickly as he could―got Fancy out of his saddle, got an early lunch set out for them all and trusted they’d get plenty of exercise chasing each other rather than he or Prompto, and made sure there was plenty of water. Then he was back at Prompto’s side, taking his hand and leading him back to their quarters.

Prompto didn’t complain, or ask questions, but he did look confused.

Noctis got him comfy on the couch, curled up in a blanket, and made food and warm drinks. Turned off the lights and pulled the curtains closed. Got a movie started and clambered onto the couch with him.

And Prompto cuddled up to him immediately, laying his head against his shoulder.

Noctis allowed it and leaned against the top of his head.

And he and Prompto spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon watching some of Prompto’s favorite movies and eating whatever Noctis could throw together between movies.

Prompto’s mood seemed to lift by the end of the first movie, and elevated progressively more as the others went by.

But by the time the final one finished, he seemed worried again.

Noctis didn’t ask, he just sat there and held onto him. There was no reason to pry.

He just hated that the distraction hadn’t had a lasting effect.

Prompto shifted slightly, started fiddling with his bracelet. Took a breath. Seemed to squirm in discomfort. Noctis just rubbed his shoulder. He heaved a shaking breath in reply.

And then, without any fanfare or further hesitation, Prompto removed his arms from under the blanket and popped the bracelet off of his wrist. Noctis looked away on instinct. Whatever Prompto hid under there was his own business. Taking off the bracelet wasn’t necessarily an invitation for him to look. He could just need a break from wearing it.

“... No, go ahead,” Prompto sighed, tucking his face into his neck, “I don’t mind if you look.”

But his voice was tight.

… But it was an open invitation. Noctis wasn’t likely to get another one of those, and he was  _ curious. _ Worried and curious.

So he looked.

And he blinked.

He removed his own hands from under the cover, slowly, to cup under Prompto’s hand an arm so he could get a better look. A more stable look. Prompto was shaking again. He bit his lip and traced a thumb over the black ink, almost tempted to see if it would smear away. If it was  _ marker. _ But no―the lines were too steady, numbers too perfect.

A  _ barcode. _

His best friend had a barcode on his wrist.

And he was  _ trembling. _

“I’ve had it for as long as I can remember,” Prompto mumbled into his neck, “Always… Always sort of knew there was something bad about it.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” Noctis admitted.

“... I talked to the Minister today,” He pressed further into his neck, “He… Noct, you know I’m from Niflheim, right? I was born there.”

“Yes?”

It was old news, part of the reason he was surprised that his father had allowed Prompto to join his retinue. Prompto had been adopted from Niflheim when he was an infant. Prompto had never actually  _ told _ him before, but he’d  _ known. _ He was the prince. The Crownsguard told him things like that.

“... He mistook me for an MT.” Prompto finally uttered, voice breaking.

Noctis wasn’t sure if he was more angry that Besithia had mistaken his best friend for a mindless done of a soldier, or more horrified that Prompto seemed to have taken it to heart. But would it really matter? The most he could do in either case was keep Prompto close and remind him that he was his best friend and he cared about him. It wasn’t as if he could erase those thoughts or openly beat the shit out of Besithia.

He stared down at the barcode and he thought about how long Prompto had been hiding it. Thought about how much discomfort it caused him. How much fear he must be feeling having it on display to Noctis. How much more fear Noctis’ general lack of a emotional response must be instilling.

He stared and he thought and he frowned.

And then he drew the arm up, brushing his thumb over the markings again, and pressed hesitant lips to them. He felt Prompto go still, a startled breath inwards the only noise he made.

He took a breath, closed his eyes, and shifted so he could hold Prompto’s wrist against his cheek.

“You’re still my person.” He told him, firmly but not harshly. He didn’t want there to be any doubt he meant what he was saying. “No matter what, okay?”

Prompto was very quiet for a minute, but then… Then, he released a slow breath. Took a slow one inwards. Began to shake again. Noctis shifted his hand so that Prompto could squeeze it while he rested his cheek on the marked skin, and Prompto  _ squeezed. _

And finally, with a choked voice, he uttered, “Okay.”

And then he started crying.

Noctis just shifted them around a little, pulling Prompto more comfortably into his arms and burying his face in Prompto’s hair while the blond buried his in his neck.

And Prompto cried for a  _ while. _ Noctis would hazard a guess at nearly an hour and a half before he finally tuckered himself out and fell asleep. He wasn’t sure if he was crying from fear, or relief, or something else, but whatever it was he was glad that Prompto had gotten the chance to get it out.

By now, he imagined Ardyn had probably told Besithia that he was here and who he was. That could be an issue.  _ Could. _ He didn’t doubt that the Minister valued secrecy, as the finer details of all of his research and experiments weren’t at all common knowledge and as both a scientist and a politician he’d be well versed in keeping secrets… But that didn’t mean Noctis trusted him.

Besides, he needed to have words with him about Prompto.

Whether those words would involve serious threats on the Minister’s life or not would depend on how much Noctis had managed to calm down by the time he got there―with Prompto all cried out and asleep, he had nothing to tether himself to. He could be angry now, could let it out without fear of not being there adequately for Prompto…

And, frankly? Right now he was livid.

He wasn’t sure that all of it was directed at anything on the mortal plane, either.

Like, sure, he was pissed that Besithia had managed to make Prompto react like that with only a few words, but part of that was Prompto’s own insecurity and part of it was Besithia. And, sure, he was pissed that Prompto  _ had _ that insecurity but he wasn’t sure exactly why he had it so there wasn’t much to be done. Primarily other than that he was just plain  _ angry. _

Possibly at the world.

Possibly at the Six.

Possibly  _ specifically _ at Bahamut.

He managed to get out of Prompto’s hold and the cover’s warmth without waking the blond, and quietly put his bracelet back on him and tucked him in. He spent a moment writing a quick note― _ “Be back soon!” _ ―and left it on the table in easy view of Prompto.

And then he ducked out of the room.

In the past several months, the staff in the Manor had picked up on the distinct differences between Vel trying to find someone and Noctis trying to find someone. It was the same person either way, sure, but, well… Noctis went out of his way to make Vel come of a little humbler, a little calmer.

He didn’t bother with that when he was really intent on something like he was intent on this.

He walked with his back straight, strides purposeful, and eyes straight ahead. He knew the general location of the guest section of the Manor, where Ardyn and Besithia would probably be at this point in time, and he set a path directly there. Once or twice he had to throw apologies over his shoulder at a servant he nearly collided with, but for the most part it was a direct and  _ silent _ walk.

Through some stroke of luck, he caught Ardyn just as he was turning down the hall to the room.

“Ah, if it isn’t the runaway prince,” Ardyn greeted, all too friendly and familiar.

“Ardyn,” He greeted in return, nodding to him.

“What brings you all the way down here?” There was a quirk of brows, a devious smile.

Noctis wasn’t sure if he liked this guy, he  _ really _ wasn’t.

“I had something I needed to speak with Lord Besithia about.” Noctis answered him, truthfully.

Ardyn’s smile twisted into something more sinister. “This wouldn’t be about your dear stolen MT unit, would it?”

As much as everything in Noctis rose and wanted to fight at the words, he merely frowned and leveled Ardyn with the most unwavering royal glower he could muster. His dad was really better at it than he was… But his dad had something like an additional 20 years to master it.

Not that he really thought it would have had much more effect even if he had his father’s skill in it. Ardyn seemed unfazed.

“It just may be.” He answered vaguely, unhelpfully. “Regardless I must request that both of you stay very,  _ very _ far away from Prompto. I did not flee with him under my wing from Lucis only to have him put under duress again, and, all due respect, Chancellor, I do not trust either of you to not put him under duress.”

Ardyn made a show of being offended, pressing a hand to his chest and making an affronted noise.

Noctis thanked almost two decades of training that he could tell Ardyn was faking.

“I get the  _ strangest _ feeling,” He continued, voice flatter than he intended, “You may make him cry if you thought even for a moment that it would be funny.”

At that, Ardyn openly laughed. “Oh, perhaps you’re right to keep me away from him.” He said, and Noctis took that as a sign he was very much right.

“And as for Lord Besithia,” He soldiered on, pretending that Ardyn hadn’t spoken, “I simply do not savor the idea of him being nearby. It has taken a long time for Prompto to trust me and feel he’s not something  _ bad. _ I’m sure you can understand I’d be very put out if all that progress were to be lost because one scientist could not avoid bringing up MTs and barcodes.”

Ardyn openly laughed once more, “I’ll be sure to pass the message on, your Highness. But are you sure you don’t want your darling to know exactly what he is?”

Narrowing his eyes, not sure what Ardyn was implying with the  _ darling _ bit and not sure he liked what he  _ thought _ he meant, he replied, “If Prompto decides to seek that information, that’s his decision. I won’t stop him and I will personally come to rescind my request. But if that information is forced upon him, I fear I may do something… Very unfriendly.” He forced a smile, “And I do so want us to be friends.”

Staring at him, Ardyn’s smile turned surprised and maybe genuinely pleased. Even a little amused. “Oh, Highness,” He crooned, half-laughing, “I’m certain we can be the  _ best _ of friends. You are so very unlike the rest of the family.”

“I’m sure.” Noctis snorted, and was unable to summon forth any more anger or sass. “Good afternoon, Uncle Ardyn.”

Thankfully, that had the desired effect of temporarily stunning Ardyn into silence.

Kept him quiet long enough for Noctis to turn on his heel and walk off, if nothing else―he’d wanted to speak directly to Besithia, but… Well, it was probably for the best that he’d run into Ardyn instead. Even if he was uncomfortable with Ardyn and fairly certain he was plotting at least one person in the Manor’s death, he had a way of just  _ being _ that kept Noctis from lashing out at him. Something just warned him it wasn’t a good idea, he wouldn’t  _ get anywhere. _ And he did not like that possibility, so he didn’t entertain it.

Besithia, however… Well, Noctis would bet that he was easier to corner and threaten, and he wouldn’t make Noctis hesitate the same way Ardyn did just by being there.

Oh well.

Again, probably for the best he’d run into Ardyn instead.

He didn’t think his secret would be safe with either of them if he barged in and threatened Besithia with a sword. At least this way, he tried to do it the diplomatic way and they might actually listen  _ and _ keep his identity a secret.

He slipped back into his and Prompto’s quarters, saw Prompto still asleep, and heaved a sigh of relief.

He threw out the note.

Then, with a sigh, he began the gruelling work of cleaning up the living room and making sure all of the dishes were clean.


	26. Army of Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back with a couple of new chapters today~!
> 
> With everybody else probably going into quarantine (whether by order or by choice) I figure I might as well crank out some new chapters and new fics to fill everybody else's time between my commissions ^^
> 
> Thanks so much to all the lovely commentors who have popped in to give their love since the last chapter, y'all have kept me in a great enough place concerning this fic that I have continued motivation to actually _write_ it. Hopefully there'll be more chapters soon!! Just gotta buckle down so I actually get all of the stuff I need done, you know, done.

“So I have a question.”

Ignis glanced at him, then at the glaives lingering off to the left, “About what, exactly?”

Gladio glanced at the glaives as well, rolling his eyes when he noticed how closely they were watching them. He leaned in closer. “That crap with Prompto last year.”

Wincing, Ignis nodded. “I imagine you do,” He said, “But I might not be able to provide the answers you need.”

“Maybe not,” Gladio granted, “But if not, we can try to figure it out together later.”

“Works for me.”

Gladio leaned in further, giving the glaives a harsh enough side-eye that they at least had the grace to duck their heads and look away. Satisfied, he smirked a little. Ignis rolled his eyes fondly.

“What was his Majesty even trying to accomplish?” He finally asked.

Ignis frowned. That was… A good question. He didn’t actually have a good answer, though―he hadn’t exactly been privy to that particular information. Still, he had his  _ theories. _ Especially given the sorts of talk he had overheard while waiting for Prompto.

“Well,” He began, slowly, “I can’t say for sure, because they didn’t tell me. But everything seems to point to Regis trying to find a way to make human soldiers capable of fighting the Scourge by… Giving them the Scourge?” He uttered it under his breath, like the near-traitorous implication that it was.

“Why use Prompto?”

Ignis shrugged, “They must have had a reason… Though I’m really not sure what it would be. There was talk of Prompto being ‘special’ in some way, but…”

“But they never told you for sure what they meant by that.”

He shook his head.

Gladio cursed, softly.

Ignis wasn’t terribly sure what to do or say―this issue, however pertinent it currently was, was outdated. Their information was outdated. He didn’t really have anything new to add and Gladio was likely going to spend the rest of the ferry ride to Tenebrae being rather up-in-arms over this. Not to  _ him, _ of course, goodness no. But he’d be grumpy nonetheless.

Ignis didn’t blame him for that.

He reached out, twining his fingers with Gladio’s. Gladio grunted, squeezing his hand gently, and they both looked out at the water. There wasn’t much else to talk about, really. They had plenty of things they could discuss, but while in company of others it was… Difficult. They didn’t like being interrupted when they got into a discussion, especially about any common interests, and Ignis would go  _ ballistic _ if anyone interrupted Gladio explaining the plot of one of his books.

They didn’t really talk much in front of other people. He wondered how stoic and cold they must look to other people. Was it really any wonder that Prompto had spent the first couple of months knowing them being consistently surprised that they actually had hearts and interests?

Ah, but no matter.

Tonight, on the train, they will talk.

For now? They would hold their silence.

* * *

The train ride was admittedly rather fascinating―he’d never once ridden a train. It was very much, of course, like every other mode of transportation. And yet there was this certain  _ different _ quality that came not from the actual transportation itself. More from the vibe.

The glaives assigned to them were unable to stop he and Gladio from claiming a sleeping compartment to themselves, so that small bit of plotting afforded them plenty of comfort. It was private and quiet in there, and they were able to sort of feel like it was a pleasure trip and not… A mission. A guarded mission.

Something that, had Noctis not run off, would have been something they were sent to do on their own without an entourage.

“So, anyways,” Gladio said some time late that night, while they curled around each other and tried to fall asleep, “She ends up falling in love with this total  _ asshole _ of a dude…”

And he continued, and Ignis listened attentively as he described the plot of a book he’d read just a couple of days ago. Ignis hardly read fiction, more from a lack of any particular interest in the books people  _ thought _ he might like than any lack of interest in  _ fiction, _ so having books explained to him with commentary and all the background information Gladio could dig up was… Well, it was certainly one way to get his fix of fiction. And Gladio had a thing for high-fantasy with a dash of romance, which was always welcome. Ignis loved those sorts of books.

This particular book was the continuation of a series Gladio had read earlier in the year―he’d been waiting for it since he’d finished reading the fourth book of the series, and it had released last week. He was so excited it was contagious.

And Ignis remembered the descriptions of the others well enough that he could actually keep up with what he was being told.

That was always a bonus.

Eventually, interrupted by a yawn, Gladio came to a stopping point and turned his face into Ignis’ hair with a promise he’d finish up on the last leg of the journey in the morning.

“Looking forward to it,” Ignis mumbled back at him, burying his face into Gladio’s neck.

It was comfortable.

He was asleep all too soon.

* * *

“Okay, so, first we wander around town a bit, see what we can find out,” Ignis outlined to the glaives, “If Noctis is here, or was here for any period of time, he’s sure to be well-remembered unless he was well-disguised during his time. If we can’t find terribly much,  _ then _ we go to Luna. I hear she’s got Imperial guests at the moment so going to the Manor is a last resort if we find nothing in town.”

“You can follow us,” Gladio said, with less grace than Ignis spared them, “But stay out of the way. I don’t care why the king sent you, we know Noctis. He’s not going to want  _ shit _ to do with us if you’re there looming over our shoulders at all times. So make yourself useful and try to gather information while you follow us, or split off to do it yourselves.”

The glaives shifted a bit.

“Our orders say―” One of them began.

Ignis rolled his eyes. He was so used to anyone who  _ wasn’t _ Crownsguard listening to he and Gladio unquestioningly… But of course these ones had been sent by Gladio’s father with the order to ‘keep an eye’ on them. “Just in case”.

Just in case his  _ ass. _

“Your orders have little meaning to me.” He told them, flatly, “If we do find Noctis, or he finds us, and we are unable to make contact because of you, I  _ will _ flay you.  _ My _ orders are to find Noctis, and I will  _ not _ have you hampering that.”

Gladio gave him a pleased and impressed look, and the glaives practically cowered.

“From a distance, then,” The other of the pair said, meekly. “I have no problem with that.”

The first nodded in agreement.

“Wonderful. Now let’s go.”

And so they set off into town.


	27. Mimic

Noctis was… Not necessarily surprised when Ardyn was waiting for him at the gates to the chocobo fields in the morning.

Prompto tensed up as soon as he saw him, and Ardyn gave him an apologetic look that only seemed half-fake when he realized Prompto was accompanying him.

“Lovely morning, isn’t it, your Highness?” Ardyn greeted, nonetheless.

Noctis quietly waved Prompto through the gate, and he got a concerned look but Prompto didn’t question it. He just went on into the field quietly and was swarmed immediately by the chicks. His demeanor shifted as soon as he was, and Noctis breathed something of an internal sigh of relief. It was good to see him happy again.

“Oh, most mornings around here are.” Noctis said, in reply to Ardyn’s greeting, “What brings you out here so early, Chancellor?”

“I had hoped to speak to you,” Ardyn explained, smiling a smile that was, like the apologetic look before it, only half-fake, “One displaced Lucian noble to another.”

Somehow, Noctis got the feeling this was going to be a magic lesson.

“Well, then let’s talk.” He said, as graciously as he could. “I’m certain it’ll be interesting.”

“Oh, I certainly hope so. Will your friend be alright by himself?”

… Good point.

“Hey Prom!” He threw over his shoulder, glancing at him, “You okay to take care of them alone for a bit?”

“Sure thing!” Prompto threw back, without even looking, “Be careful, Noct!”

“No promises!”

Prompto’s laugh at least made him feel a little bit better about following Ardyn away from the fields. He wasn’t naive enough to believe that Ardyn would want to do this out in the open, so he’d… Sort of been expecting this. And he kept himself calm by reminding himself he had been trained to fight since he was old enough to carry a sword without dropping it on his own tiny feet. He could defend himself against Ardyn. He had  _ plenty _ of experience.

“Terribly loyal and spritely little thing, isn’t he?” Ardyn asked, throwing an obvious glance back at Prompto, “The chicks seem to love him.”

“They aren’t the only ones.” Noctis commented, dryly, after throwing his own glance at them. “But yeah, he is. The amount of shit he put himself through to be at my side in Insomnia is still enough to make me sick.”

Ardyn hummed. “The daemon experiments, I presume?”

“He hates needles,” Noctis intoned with a shrug, “And hospitals. And he’s not terribly fond of scientists either. He just went along with all of it because my dad told him he had to if he wanted to be allowed into the Citadel.”

“Were you aware of this?” The elder cocked his head to the side, lifting a brow.

“Not until around this time last year.” He shook his head, feeling the familiar anger rising in his gu and making his heart pound, “It went on for two before that. Made me angry enough it washed my nausea right out of my body for a good hour.”

Ardyn hummed, seeming to consider that. “Have you thought of how you’re meant to drive off the Starscourge  _ without _ being in Lucis?”

“I haven’t,” Noctis admitted with a sigh, “I’m seventeen and I’d really like to live, you know? Sometimes you just… Wanna be a chocobo farmer.”

Ardyn seemed… A little troubled at that. Not like Noctis’ lack of forethought bothered him―it really seemed like the chocobo farmer bit got him. But he didn’t say anything about it, just hummed again with a nod.

Finally, they entered a private garden in the Manor’s back lawn where they wouldn’t be seen or disturbed, and Ardyn stopped to turn toward him. “I seem to recall you requesting to be taught how to shapeshift.”

Trying to hold back a smile, because to be honest he  _ was _ pretty excited, Noctis nodded, “You recall correctly.”

“Well, then let’s get started, shall we?”

And so they did. Ardyn took him through several steps, having him focus on specific types of illusions before he actually started telling him how to change his own appearance. They spent a good while once they  _ started _ the actual appearance changing just one thing about him, with special focus on his eyes since they were the easiest way to tell him apart from others. Even just changing the shade was important, according to Ardyn.

Noctis didn’t, at this point in time, have any reason  _ not _ to believe him.

Sure, he was the Chancellor of Niflheim and he  _ felt _ nasty and his arrival had come not long after this latest bad feeling had come for Noctis’ knees, but he hadn’t actually  _ done _ anything yet. And, sure, Noctis didn’t doubt that he  _ would, _ but any magic lessons he could get while the guy was here and  _ not _ being a bastard would help in the long run.

It was getting closer to noon than morning by the time that Luna entered the little private garden. She did not look at all surprised to find them together.

“Noctis,” She intoned calmly, apparently taking his lack of hiding from the Chancellor as proof the Chancellor already knew who he was, “The Manor guards spotted a small group of Insomnians walking about town. Two of them appear to be Kingsglaive. The others… Appear to perhaps be the remainder of your retinue.”

He tensed. Ignis and Gladio? In Tenebrae?

Of course, his father must have sent them to look for him. That was the only explanation for the glaives with them. If they were just here on holiday or looking for him on their own they wouldn’t have brought glaives. They would know he’d want nothing to do with them.

“Are they heading toward the Manor?” He asked, a little tense.

“Not yet,” She assured him, “But I’ve no doubt they’ll be up here before the day is out.”

Smiling, Ardyn softly cleared his throat to draw their attention to him. “Well, dear prince, were you not just practicing a way to keep them off of you? This would be a wonderful opportunity to test your skills.”

“I’ve had like three hours of training,” Noctis pointed out in response.

“What better time to test yourself? You’ll find out exactly what you need to work on to make yourself a great shapeshifter.”

Finding there wasn’t much of an argument that could be made there, Noctis sighed and nodded. He focused like Ardyn had taught him to, zeroed in on parts of his body that needed changed. He lengthened his hair a tad more, let it curl up in the same messy way it naturally did. Lightened his eye color just enough to raise doubts. Darkened his visible skin to fit more with the idea he worked in the sun all day every day.

He blinked his eyes open and looked at Luna and Ardyn, and Ardyn clapped. Actually clapped. Like Noctis had just done something truly impressive and not just the bare minimum.

“Wonderfully executed,” Ardyn congratulated, “You’ll be great at this yet.”

“You should also choose a different accent,” Luna pointed out, instead of commenting on the change at all, “Gladiolus and Ignis will know you all too quickly if you speak to them right now.”

He almost cursed. Of course they would. He could look as different as he pleased but if he spoke to them without changing his voice up a bit he was screwed.

“Give me your best Leidan accent,” Luna demanded when he winced in response to her very good point, “We’ll see if we can work with it.”

“Well,” He spluttered, though he did slide a little  _ too _ easily into the Leidan accent he’d whipped out for the ferry captain and his trips into town, “I dunno that I can pull off one that’ll convince folks from Lucis, but this one seems to work ‘round here.”

She blinked, and so did Ardyn. Then, nodding her approval, she said, “It will do. Just make sure you keep it up.”

Ardyn grinned at both of them, and Noctis… Did  _ not _ want to ask what about this had him so delighted. He really, really didn’t. He didn’t even want to have an inkling of the exact reason. He got the feeling it would be nasty as hell.

“Well, Highness, you’d best find a way to disguise your loyal little friend as well. Wouldn’t want  _ him _ being discovered, would you?”

That… Got Noctis’ brain back into working order. Regrettably, Ardyn was right. He could shapeshift, Prompto could not. Sharing a look with Luna, he quickly bid his goodbyes to Ardyn, who simply waved and walked off into the yard as if he had somewhere to be. Then, he and Luna headed for the fields.

“Cyril,” Noct called, just in case anyone else was nearby, “C’mon, we need to go.”

He got a double-take and a confused half-opened mouth for his efforts. Prompto threw a seemingly lost look at Luna, who smiled and shrugged like the difficult little devil she could be when she wanted to be. He had to stifle a laugh.

“It’s me.” He promised, “It’s Noctis. But Gladio and Ignis are in town so we need to move fast to get you a  _ little _ less recognizable. I’m guessing Luna’s intending to help with that?”

She nodded when he looked to her, and he grinned sheepishly at Prompto. The blonde closed his mouth, slowly nodded, and walked away from the chocobos.

“I― They already had lunch. So we’ve got time?” He seemed unsure, still a little put off by Noctis’ effortless-seeming disguise.

“Yeah, we’ve got time.” Noctis assured him, and then he and Luna ushered him back to their quarters.

Prompto went along without any complaint, but he was still clearly reeling. Noctis felt a little bad for that. He supposed he could have explained better, but right now the priority was to make sure that Ignis and Gladio didn’t recognize him on sight. If they recognized from extended interaction, well… They’d work on that later. Right now they just needed to cause reasonable doubt.

“His face should be different enough already―I’ve seen the pictures to prove he’s changed enough there that they’ll at least need a double-take.” Noctis was saying, as soon as the door was closed to their quarters behind them. “So it’s mostly a matter of his hair.”

“I can probably come up with a convincingly different hairstyle,” Luna assured him, already going for the bathroom to snag Prompto’s brush.

Prompto just seemed bewildered, now, but he was willing to be dragged to the kitchen table and sat down to have his hair brushed and re-styled. And then Luna was at his back, drawing the brush through his hair, and Noctis could only stand and watch.

“So,” Prompto began, slowly, “What’s with the beach curls and farmer’s tan, bro?”

“Well, I may have been learning some magic today,” Noctis shrugged, “So… This.” He motioned at himself.

Slowly, Prompto nodded. Then, seeming kind of relieved, he relaxed.

Luna spent a few more moments re-styling Prompto’s hair, then finally whipped out a white headband and secured it in his hair. “That should do,” She said, then frowned, “Noctis, what do you think?”

“I think he looks almost nothing like the Prompto they’d be expecting, so as long as they don’t look too closely at his face he should be fine.”

“Well, that will have to do. Good luck.” Luna paused long enough to hug them both once, then swept out of the room with only one final, “I’ll be sure to inform the others of what to expect of you, Masters Sveso and Maursus.” before she vanished down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger on this one!  
> Like I said - hopefully more chapters will follow with at least _some_ regularity after this.


	28. Run and Hide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished my second playthrough of the game at the end of May, had a good cry about it just like the first time, and my inspiration was miraculously revived so! New chapter ^u^
> 
> Also, I've figured out exactly where this one's gonna end, and we've got less to go than I'd initially expected now that I've divided the remaining outline up into chapters. Only two more after this!  
> There's gonna be a sequel, at some point, so hang on for that! I'll try to pop back in the notes here with an update when I post it, but we've got a little while left before that happens.  
> Next chapter of this one should be up next Sunday!

It took maybe another three hours for Ignis, Gladio, and their two glaives to arrive at the Manor. Ignis and Gladio, the moment Noctis (sorry,  _ Vel) _ saw them, seemed very annoyed to have the glaives at all, if their constant side-eyes were anything to go by.

He sort of understood, though. They would know better than anyone that having the glaives decreased their chance of being able to actually talk to him if he was here. Their clear insistence on being right on top of his remaining retainers meant it was clearly something they had little say in.

Still, after being introduced to Luna, Ignis sent the glaives such a horribly withering look that the two of them stammered out something about perhaps going to question the staff in the meantime and as soon as Luna okayed it, they were off like rockets.

Iggy still had it.

There were some pleasantries, gentle probing questions from the ever-civil Ignis and slightly less gentle ones from Gladio who was nonetheless respectful.

“We had heard rumors that his Highness fled the country with chocobos in his care. Coupled with talk of your dear chocobo caretakers here…” Ignis trailed a little bit, tipping his head meaningfully, “Well, we would very much like to speak to them, if possible.”

Luna was gracious, of course, inclining her head obligingly. “Of course, Lord Scientia. When I was told you were here in Tenebrae I anticipated you may want to. That is why I asked them to be here with us.” She tossed a glance toward N―

Toward Vel and Cyril.

Both of them bowed instinctively.

“Oh,” Said Ignis, “They… Do look much like Noctis and Prompto, don’t they?”

“Suddenly the rumors that Noct and Prom left with chocobos makes a little more sense.” Gladio acknowledged.

“Anything you wish to ask them, you may. However, they will soon need to tend to the chocobos, I believe, so please do not keep them terribly long.” Luna said, then promptly got up and left them to deal with Ignis and Gladio alone.

But at least she’d given them a convenient out.

“Howdy,” Vel greeted, when Ignis and Gladio approached them, “I’m happy t’ help anyway I can. What do ya need to know?”

“You arrived here nearly a year ago, correct?” Ignis asked, jumping right into it without introductions, which was odd but not unexpected.

“Sure,” Vel confirmed, “With seven chocobos. Two adults, five littl’uns.”

Ignis nodded along, and Vel wasn’t stupid enough to be put off his guard by Ignis’ next question being, “Do they have names?”

“The adults are Fancy and Magnus,” Cyril answered, managing a Leidan lilt just as well as Vel had, “And the two white chicks are Coconut and Snowball, the yellow ones are Donut and Dolly, and the red one is Rajah.”

Ignis nodded along once more, and Vel tried not to be terribly suspicious looking. But he  _ felt _ suspicious. Ignis prying in seemed a lot like Ignis trying to find a hole in their story―but since the only real lies he could potentially expose were their names, he wasn’t going to find much. He could try to poke holes all he wanted, but unless there was a weak point to exploit he wouldn’t manage anything decent.

“Might we see them?”

“Sure, Lord Scientia. Right this way.” Vel led him out toward the chocobo fields, with Cyril right on his heels.

And it wasn’t exactly anything to be scared of―showing Ignis and Gladio the chocobos. He’d wanted them to meet them for a while, now, and even if he was still just a little angry at Ignis for the whole deal back in Lucis it felt nice to be able to talk to him. Even if not as his friend. His prince. And the probing questions he provided on this gave Vel plenty of opportunity to gush about the birds.

Ignis, ever-steady and unmoving, didn’t seem to be any different right now. He stuck to his guns and kept asking questions, but Gladio seemed pretty taken with the birds, personally. Vel couldn’t help smiling when he seemed to take a distinct liking to Rajah.

“You remind me of him, a bit,” Vel mused, to Gladio, and made a snap decision on what to say next because they were here to find  _ Noctis _ and he wasn’t as averse to the idea of communicating with them as he expected, “I can understand now why the prince had said Rajah was a lot like―” He slapped his hand over his mouth, as if he’d honestly slipped up and said that on accident.

“The prince?” Ignis asked, tone flat.

“The prince?” Gladio repeated, brows lifting.

Cyril made a suffering squeak and turned to shove his face into Fancy’s feathers. Vel shrunk a bit and it took some effort to stammer, “I― Well, shit.”

“Well, do feel free to explain yourself.” Ignis still sounded flat, and Vel didn’t have to fake the mild way it made a tingle slide up his spine.

“I, well…” He sighed, sagging, “He stops by sometimes,” He ‘admitted’, “Here ‘n there. Brought his friend by a couple times at the very beginnin’ a’ spring to check on the chicks… Usually comes by his lonesome.”

“When?” Gladio asked, gruffly.

Vel shook his head, “I shouldn’t say. I done messed up jus’ by tellin’ ya he’s around.”

“I’m sure his Highness would understand.” Ignis said, a little less flat now.

Vel shook his head again. “I could tell ‘im y’were here the next time he pops by?” He suggested, weakly, “But if he comes by ‘n yer waitin’ for him he’ll be awful steamed that I told ya.”

“That  _ is _ a good point,” Gladio sighed out, turning to Ignis, “It’s bad enough we’re here with glaives. Noct won’t talk to us if we don’t give him a choice… Especially at this point.”

Ignis frowned, but nodded. Turned back to Vel with that frown still on his face. He seemed to consider him for a long moment, squinting and looking him up and down like he was trying to size him up. Finally, with a huff, he pulled something from inside his jacket and, on offering it to Vel, he realized it was a sealed envelope. “His Majesty would have  _ us  _ deliver this to Noctis, but it’s clear he’s chosen a better hiding spot than we’d thought. If you see him in the near future, do hand this off to him, yes?”

Taking it, Vel bowed to him, “Sure, Lord Scientia.” He said, tucking it up against his chest, “I’ll make sure it gets to him. Should I bring his response to ya if I see him before ya head back to Lucis?”

“If it wouldn’t be too terrible a trouble to you,” Ignis said, “We’d appreciate it.”

Vel nodded.

“Thank you for your time.” Ignis turned to leave, “And very sorry for any trouble. We’ll leave you to your duties.”

“I may swing by to see that little one again before we leave.” Gladio mused, “You said his name’s Rajah?”

“Yes, sir. I’m sure he’ll be looking forward to it.”

Vel smiled, and Gladio grinned in turn before he and Ignis headed off. And Noctis tucked the letter into his jacket, going a little too swiftly about his duties with Prompto before the two of them scurried back off to their quarters. It was all he could do to stay calm long enough to feed the poor chocobos before they ran off.

He flopped almost too hard into the couch, magic dissipating in a flurry of black dust and little golden sparks. He shared a look with Prom, who looked equally as horrified and exhausted as he felt, and it took them a moment to work up the courage to do anything but sit on the couch together. That had been…  _ Hoo. _ Noctis hadn’t been in any real danger of being recognized, but Prompto had. And it would have been so easy for him to forget his accent, forget to deepen his voice a little…  _ Six. _

Six that was terrifying.

Thankfully, he  _ should _ only have to interact with those two one more time in person while he was, you know, in hiding.

Finally, withdrawing the letter from his jacket, he shared another look with Prompto and, taking a deep breath, he broke the wax seal.


	29. Return To Sender

_ Noctis, _

Was how the letter began, which was fairly standard. Noctis didn’t know why he was analyzing it, exactly, but he felt the need to. He felt like he needed to be, oh, what was the word? A little more discerning than usual, he supposed. This was, after all, a letter from his father. One that had been meant to be delivered directly to him.

_ Noctis, _

_ I hope this letter finds you well. It has been a long year since I saw you and I worry for your health, and for Prompto’s as well. _

Well, that was certainly  _ rich _ coming from his father.

… And yet, he imagined his father  _ had _ probably changed his tune once he’d run off and it became obvious that he wasn’t coming back.

_...and for Prompto’s as well. I know that you have no reason to believe this, and I will not waste time trying to convince you, nor will I ask that you return home as I can now see exactly the reason why you have not returned yet. I am certain that until you know that both yourself and your dear friend are safe here, you will not return. _

_ I do not ask that you return, my son, only that you tell me what needs to be done that you might feel safe here in the future. _

_ Wishing you well, _

_ King Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII _

Noctis chewed his lip, glancing at Prompto who had been very steadfastly attempting not to read over his shoulder. He looked back to the letter and sighed to himself. He couldn’t quite parse out anything from this―it was a painfully brief letter, really. Very like his father, who he had never known to be particularly long-winded.

Finally, sighing again, he decided his father was probably being genuine, for the most part. It was clear he  _ did _ want him to return, but had realized he couldn’t force it, so he was asking what needed to be done for Noctis to return on his own.

It was better than he’d expected of his father.

So he laid the letter on the table, where Prompto could read it if he really felt he needed to, and grabbed some paper so he could write a reply.

_ King Regis, _ he wrote.

_ It has been a long year indeed. May your worries be eased with the knowledge that I am in good health and living safely, as is Prompto. _

He did not mention his new bad feeling.

_ I appreciate your interest in what would make me feel safe returning to Lucis and in particular the Crown City. I feel my primary demand, as it were, should be obvious―the permanent ending of your experiments involving Prompto and the Scourge. Past that, only the promise Prompto will not be punished for informing me, nor accompanying me in my retreat. I am a simple man, father. I do not ask or need much. _

_ However, I am still ambivalent on the subject of my return to Insomnia. Only time will tell what my eventual decision will be. I find I am quite comfortable with my life as I am now. _

_ Before it can be otherwise addressed, I am aware I have a destiny to uphold and I am separately making plans for that. Do not fret. _

_ With well-wishes in return, _

_ Noctis Lucis Caelum _

He did not sign his title or, technically, his full name. As he was now, he was not a prince, nor was he to be the hundred and fourteenth ruling monarch of Lucis. He was just Noctis… Or, rather, more often than not, he was just Vel.

He stuffed the letter into an envelope, sealed it with a drop of wax with no actual seal on it, and sat it aside to be taken to Ignis and Gladio in the morning.

“I dunno about you,” He said to Prompto, once that was done, “But I’m beat.”

“Gods, same.” Prompto sighed.

He pulled the hairband off of his head and tossed it onto the table next to Noctis’ letter and gave a weary smile, and Noctis could only smile in return.

“I could go for some cuddles,” Noctis chose to say, and Prompto grinned.

After the two of them finally finished getting ready for bed―showering, changing, and getting Noctis’ bed set up―, they fell into bed together and snuggled up. Prompto threw his leg over Noctis’ and tucked up against his chest, and Noctis felt… Strangely at peace. Still anxious and sick, sure, but with all the practice he’d gotten in ignoring it and the tangible proof that Prompto was safe… Well.

He nuzzled into his hair, smiling, and didn’t think before pressing a kiss to his forehead. Prompto responded by nuzzling against his chest and neck.

“Love you,” Noctis mumbled.

“I love you too, Noct.” Prompto said, nuzzling him again.

* * *

Once morning came, Prompto had rolled onto his back and Noctis somehow still had a faceful of his hair.

He didn’t mind, though.

When Prompto woke a few minutes after him, he again didn’t think. He just…  _ Did. _

And smooched Prompto right on his lips.

And when he pulled back Prompto was grinning and bright red. He was pretty sure his face was red as well, which was fine.

They got up and got ready, and after both plopping on sunhats and spending a moment letting Noctis shapeshift back into Vel, they headed down into town with the letter.

They held hands the whole way and when they got to the only hotel in town, where those two  _ had _ to be staying, they immediately spotted them seeming to leave for the day. Vel flagged them down and offered them the letter.

“He got this t’me this mornin’,” He lied, “Left it by the chocobo pen so I could find it.”

Ignis accepted it, studied it a moment, and nodded. “Thank you.”

“Mhm!” Vel smiled, and since Ignis and Gladio didn’t really ask any further questions he and Cyril made their way back to the manor.

Immediately, there was a commotion. Murmuring in the halls and then the news that Ravus was back.

Noctis could understand why it would cause a stir. Ravus wasn’t supposed to even be arriving in  _ Gralea _ yet. He must have turned around to come back as soon as he heard Ardyn was at the Manor, and Noctis wouldn’t blame him if that was the case.

He threw a look at Prompto, and the two of them made for the library, where he would likely be speaking to Luna.

Noctis liked it when he was right about things like that.

“Ah, Noctis, Prompto,” Luna said, right as they arrived, “I had hoped you would both come straight here.”

“We figured Ravus being back would be important,” Noctis said, “Is there something wrong?”

“Only rumors,” Ravus sighed, without any delay, “But Luna tells me you’ve had a bad feeling?”

“Almost as bad as the one that led to me leaving Lucis, yeah.” He furrowed his brows, “You’re telling me there’s rumors of a daemon attack that hasn’t happened yet?”

Ravus nodded, grimly. “And I do not savor the idea that it  _ will. _ Thus, having heard that the Chancellor and the Minister for Research were both here…”

“I thought that might be why you came back so quick.” He said with a sigh, because he  _ didn’t  _ like being right about that. It was a little troubling, when coupled with rumors of a  _ future _ daemon attack, that the Minister was here, and more troubling that it was apparently enough of a connection to have Ravus coming back before he even reached the capital. “Prompto and I will be on the lookout, of course.”

“Much appreciated,” Ravus sighed in return.

And after a brief talk about how they’d have to hope that the security they had was enough and how Noctis and Prompto would be constantly on the lookout and available in case of emergency, they all went to do their daily duties. As soon as the Chancellor’s visit was over, Noctis knew, Luna would be heading off to do her job as she’d promised when she ascended. He didn’t envy that burden.

Nor did he look forward to being the primary magical protection for the manor once she was gone.

But, oh well.

He could and would manage it just fine.

In the meantime, he and Prompto tended to the chocobos and enjoyed it the best they could while constantly being on the lookout for demons and Ardyn. It was hard, but rewarding, work to be doing. Noctis enjoyed that.

… And he just enjoyed working with them in general.

They were getting big, but they were still such fun babies.

Not to mention, letting them chase him around while he tried to ignore his nausea was actually pretty helpful. If he focused harder on getting away from them than on the ignoring part, he actually forgot it pretty easily.

And they did  _ so _ love chasing him around.

* * *

The thing that alerted both he and Prompto to something going wrong was, inevitably, a scream.

Both of them jumped the fences immediately, legging it up to the Manor and ending up fending off several daemons while they helped Luna and Ravus escort the staff out of the front doors and towards town. And Noctis may have just been being paranoid, but he didn’t see Ardyn or Verstael anywhere in the crowd. And that was  _ suspicious. _

He hoped he was just being paranoid.

And then he pushed the thought aside and ran with Prompto back into the Manor. They spent a few moments in the entry hall, killing off any daemon that spawned in the shadows of the vast room and trying very hard not to get hit. They still had a plentiful supply of curatives, sure, but…

Well.

Eyeing the claws of one particular daemon before striking it down, Noctis thought he didn’t particularly want to get caught by that.

Luna and Ravus’ arrival back in the Manor let them all move further within after Luna flicked her hands upwards and uncovered all of the windows with a very practical magical flair, eradicating the daemons within with the sunlight from outside.

“I must make sure there is no one left in here,” She said, immediately splitting off from the group and ignoring Ravus and Noctis’ protests, “Just get rid of the daemons, I’ll be fine.”

Ravus split off from them in another direction after only a moment’s consideration.

Noctis and Prompto went the only remaining direction and Noctis went into the first dark room with his sword ready. Charged at a couple of daemons straight on and laid into them while Prompto laid down cover fire from the doorway where he wasn’t in any immediate danger. When there was a pause in the spawning of the daemons, Noctis reached out in search of the curtains and yanked the only ones he found open. It likely wouldn’t stop daemons from spawning in here, but it would be a decent deterrent.

They moved to the next room and more or less repeated the strategy.

Noctis, in the fray so closely, did get hit once or twice. The first time was just with what he thought was a knee or elbow, and he shrugged the blow off since it wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever felt. The  _ second _ hit was one of those claws and,  _ yeah buddy _ he’d been right to not want that to happen.

Hurt like a  _ bitch _ let him tell you what.

As he chugged a potion between rooms, he passed the warning to his partner― “Don’t get up close and personal with them. Those  _ claws, _ man.”

Prompto winced sympathetically, but laughed anyway.

And they’d cleared out almost a whole hall when they heard Ravus scream.

Sharing a brief look, the two of them booked it back down the hallway and in the direction that Ravus had gone.

They emerged into a ballroom and saw him there, nearly in the center of the room. Noctis noticed something smokey fading away nearby, and then the smoke coming off of Ravus. He was panting, groaning―seemed to notice them, even through the obvious pain. Opened his mouth as if to say something. Warn them, maybe? Beg for help?

And then, with a horrific noise and an explosion that almost knocked Noctis off his feet and  _ did _ land Prompto on his ass, Ravus disappeared.

The smoke billowed out and then, horrifically, flew back together and formed a shape.

And Noctis wished he didn’t recognize the type of daemon that formed out of the smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliff-hanger on this one - only one chapter left after this and it'll be coming out next week. Hopefully by next week I'll have decided when I'll be starting work on the second part, Sing To Me. Also, since I don't know how obviously it came across... Yeah, they only got together in the second to last chapter and yes it's vague as hell on accident.
> 
> Sing To Me is likely going to be longer than this one was, and probably going to receive a higher rating although I'm not sure yet if that will be necessary. I'm still outlining it, after all.
> 
> If you want to know the moment that Sing To Me starts being posted without checking back here all the time, don't forget to subscribe to the series itself!
> 
> See you guys next week, and thank you all so much for reading and leaving such lovely comments and all those kudos ^^


	30. Sing Me A Happy Song

Was Ignis a tad bit suspicious that the chocobo caretakers, Vel and Cyril, looked very much like Noctis and Prompto? Absolutely. Was he  _ more _ suspicious that it had taken less than twelve hours for them to come bearing a reply letter from Noctis? You had better believe it.

… But there was little that could be done about it. He couldn't prove that they weren’t who they said they were―their story didn’t have any noticeable holes in it and their resemblance to the prince and Prompto wasn’t enough to start an investigation, especially considering they were technically Tenebrasian residents now, as they worked and lived in Fenestala Manor.

Investigating them would involve investigating Luna, and that would require a  _ lot _ of evidence that they simply didn’t have. It wasn’t worth the headache.

Still.

He and Gladio spent a couple of hours debating opening it themselves and reading it to make sure the prince had really written it. But, well. Reading royal mail was a capital offense, and Ignis wasn’t in the market for being accused of treason or conspiracy.

So they called Cor.

“Though we did not see Noctis face to face, we were able to find someone who sees him frequently enough they were able to deliver the letter to him and receive a reply by this morning. I have some doubts of its authenticity, but there is little to be done,” He reported as calmly as he could, “Should we send the letter back and remain here, or come back immediately?”

Cor hummed, and Ignis heard Clarus hum as well. They must have been in a meeting when Ignis called. Oops. If he wasn’t the Hand of the Prince he might have gotten in trouble for that, but even with Noctis missing his position left him with that sort of authority and ability. Not to mention… It was important that this information be received and new orders be given in return.

“His Majesty doesn’t want Noctis to feel threatened,” Cor finally said, “So it may be best to withdraw sooner rather than later. If the letter is a forgery, we’ll find out when you get back.”

“Understood,” Ignis said, and Gladio grunted, “We’ll begin packing immed―”

A scream cut him off mid-sentence, and was followed by several others.

“I believe I’ve made my point,” He said, even as he grabbed his daggers from the table and picked up his phone, “But I believe our assistance may be required in the town.”

“Good luck,” Was all Cor said before the line went dead.

He and Gladio rushed out the door, weapons in hand, and found several of the Manor’s staff rushing in. The sky was swiftly darkening, and Ignis did not like the looks of that.

“Daemons!” One of the staff yelled, “Anywhere it’s dark enough, daemons!”

And the town went into an uproar. Ignis found himself flanked by Gladio and the two glaives very suddenly, and what to do wasn’t discussed. They split off into the crowds to defend the town―it wasn’t their country, but it was their duty.

* * *

“It is a shame, though.” Verstael said, nearly pouting―or, well, as close as the man ever came to pouting.

“Is it?” Ardyn asked in return, cocking a brow and his head. It was unlike Verstael to show any sympathy or regret for their plans.  _ Very _ unlike him. Was he catching a conscience all of a sudden?

That would certainly be interesting.

Ardyn was afraid he wasn’t faring much better, if that was the case. That little prince was something else, and he thought he  _ might _ have developed a soft spot.

Ah, well.

It’d go away, as most things did.

“That little defective clone of mine,” Verstael explained, “It will likely be hurt in this little scuffle. I may not ever get the chance to study it.”

Of course that was his concern. Ardyn nearly laughed and rolled his eyes, but refrained. Best to not get his darling in a tizzy right now. He did need to have some energy to spare to head back to the Manor and put the final piece into motion, after all. And it was a matter of  _ timing. _ No use getting distracted fighting.

Still, it was very like Verstael to mourn a lost chance to study something he found interesting.

It may also be that he felt something significant for that poor little defective clone―he almost hesitated calling Prompto an ‘it’, after all. Not that it probably would have been obvious to anyone but Ardyn.

“Oh, I wouldn’t concern yourself with that,” He soothed, “The little prince won’t allow any harm to come to that boy. He loves him too much.” Then, snorting, “Besides, darling. Any clone of yours with free will and as much of your intelligence as that boy got  _ clearly _ inherited your stellar aim as well. I’m sure he’ll be just fine.”

Verstael nearly cracked a smile. “I suppose you’re right.”

Ardyn chuckled, then, glancing out toward the town some ways away, pursed his lips. “Ah,” He said, “It seems it’s time. I’ll be back soon enough.”

“Don’t have too much fun.” Verstael snorted, brows lifted.

“I promise no such thing.” Ardyn snorted back at him, and spirited himself back off to the Manor.

Wonderful thing, long-distance warping. Very helpful.

Almost a shame he wouldn’t get to teach the prince―he doubted he’d get much chance to see him after this. His peace and tranquility here would be shattered, after all.

He wandered quietly into a ballroom there in the Manor, pleasantly surprised to find Ravus there. He’d thought he may have to track him down! But no. Here he was.

“Chancellor,” Ravus sounded somewhere between annoyed and surprised, “I’d thought you left earlier.”

“Oh, I thought I might return to help out!” He chuckled, “You do so seem to need it.”

“I suppose,” Ravus hummed, “There don’t seem to be any daemons in―”

Ardyn smiled, finger still over Ravus’ mouth to shush him. He did feel…  _ Something _ about this. Hesitant, perhaps? Well. He’d get over it. Though it was such a terrible shame that it had to come to this in the end, and that he’d soon have Noctis fighting against him as he was meant to instead of learning from him.

At least it would be interesting to fight a king who could appear as anyone just as Ardyn could. If he learned to extend his illusions and shapeshifting to others he may very well become a true challenge!

But, ah. That was the future.

This was now.

“Don’t speak too quickly, Commander,” He chided, pulling his hand back, “You never know when one may simply sneak up!”

Ravus frowned, wincing somewhat as if the spot where Ardyn had touch him stung. Ardyn imagined it probably did.

There was, after all, a spot of scourge sliding its way down his chin.

“I suppose you do have a point.” He said, almost reluctantly, and turned away as if to survey the room.

What a chance!

Ardyn snapped, and Ravus stepped right into a puddle of scourge. The High Commander flinched, stepping backwards out of it, but it was crawling up his legs already. He screamed, probably from the sudden pain of having scourge permeating his being, and Ardyn smiled, stepping back and warping back to Verstael. He’d have liked to stay and see what form Ravus took, but… Hm. Too high a chance of being caught, that way.

“Is it done?” Verstael asked, closing the book he’d opened while he was waiting.

“Would I be back if it wasn’t?” Ardyn asked, innocently.

Verstael’s unimpressed expression told him the answer, and he laughed. Helped his darling up off the ground, and they resumed their walk. They’d head back to the Manor later, together, to see the damage. Offer their condolences on poor Ravus. That sort of thing.

It really  _ was _ a shame.

Maybe in another life he’d have been able to stick around without such a time limit and learn more about the strange little prince and his friend.

* * *

Noctis wished he didn’t recognize the type of daemon that formed out of the smoke.

He wished he didn’t know how hopeless it was to try and fight a Red Giant.

It thrashed, a bit, shaking itself out, and… And Noctis could only stare for the first moment as it turned toward him. Toward Prompto.

When his mouth finally started working, he croaked, “Run.”

“What?” Prompto asked, wide, horrified eyes turning on him.

“Run!” Noctis snapped, hauling him onto his feet and pushing him toward the door, “I’ll distract him!”

“Noct―” Prompto tried to protest, but as much as Noctis appreciated that he wanted to stay and help, it was more important to him that Prompto get out of here. Now.

“Go.” He said, firmly, kissing him and then pushing him out of the room, “I’ll be fine.”

Prompto hesitated, eyes staring over Noctis’ shoulder toward the thing that used to be Ravus, until finally he squeezed his eyes shut and turned around, throwing over his shoulder, “I’ll get Luna!”

It wouldn’t do anything to get Luna, but as long as it got Prompto out of here…

Noctis turned to face down the Red Giant.

He couldn’t fight one on his own, and he knew that. It took whole leagues of glaives to take out one of these things. He was just one guy. One prince who hadn’t even finished his training in, well,  _ anything. _

Still.

Distracting it was something he could try.

He took off running toward one of the pillars on the other side of the ballroom, ducking under a swing and feeling his heart start pounding. The bad feeling had disappeared out of his gut when Ravus’ transformation finished, and he knew what that meant. This was the bad thing. The bad feeling was a warning, not a nudge in the right direction like last time. It wasn’t a matter of feeling bad until the bad thing stopped in order to nudge him away from the danger.

It was giving him time to prepare.

He felt oddly energized, skirting around the pillar and yelping when the thing that used to be Ravus swung and broke it into a hundred comparatively tiny pieces. He only barely avoided getting cracked in the head with one of the chunks. Oh boy.

Ooohhhh boy.

And it continued like that for a few moments.

Noctis ran and dodged and ducked and vaulted over rubble and tried to just get the Red Giant turned around and off-balance, but it wasn’t working. It stayed fixated on him. He couldn’t find any good openings and he wasn’t  _ about _ to just warp in there and stick his sword in its face. No thanks.

Even if it wasn’t Ravus, and even if he wasn’t hesitant to hurt something that used to be Ravus, that was a good way to get himself slapped through a pillar.

Six, a year ago? He probably wouldn’t have hesitated to kill Ravus―or, well, this thing that used to be Ravus. It was self defense and he didn’t like the guy back then.

But he―well. He liked Ravus. He was a pretty cool dude when he wasn’t being a tool and Noctis understood that he was just really protective of Luna and doing everything he could to keep his people safe. He loved his country and he loved his sister. If working for the Empire kept them as safe as he could keep them? Very well. He’d do it.

Not to mention, it would  _ destroy _ Luna if he died. If Noctis killed him.

It was bad enough he’d been turned into a daemon. If he died, that was worse because there was no chance of him ever turning back. Of being saved.

At least as a daemon they could pray that her powers could turn him back.

If he could just keep him distracted until Luna got here…

But he couldn’t run forever, or for however long it took Prompto and Luna to get here if he was honest. He was already running out of energy. Adrenaline could only get him so far.

Gods, if only there was a way to just change Ravus back. This was hellish, and so was the idea he may have to kill him. He didn’t want to kill Ravus.

But he didn’t have a whole lot of options.

It was run until Ravus killed him or Luna got here, or kill Ravus and live with the consequences.

Making a split-second decision, he flung himself over some rubble, rolled out of the way of Ravus’ descending fist, and then clambered up his arm. Grabbed onto one of his horns to swing himself onto his head where he would  _ hopefully _ be safe for a few moments while he caught his breath. It didn’t hurt to try. Worst case scenario he got himself thrown through a pillar and it’d hurt like a bitch and probably break his spine.

At least Ravus would kill him after that.

He got as stable a grip as he could, clinging on for dear life as Ravus began to twist and turn as if trying to figure out where he’d gone. He panted, squeezing his eyes closed, and thought again about how he wished he could just change him back. Just pull the scourge out of him and make him go back to normal.

As he thought it, he felt a stinging sensation start climbing up his limbs.

For the first few seconds he thought it was just the burning of exertion.

And then it turned into something like  _ agony _ and Ravus roared and began to thrash. Not just twist and shake himself.  _ Thrash. _ Like he was being  _ injured. _ And Noctis only noticed because of how hard it got to hold on both from the movement and his own pain. He thought he may have screamed. He felt like he was on  _ fire. _

Ravus thrashed again, harder, and he felt himself go flying.

In a moment of brightness, a patch of sunlight from the one high, open window Ravus had been avoiding this whole time, Noctis felt everything intensify. Then he felt the ground. Crying out again, he tried to roll off his back. He ended up on his side, sobbing as he curled in on himself. His eyes felt wet.

He barely managed to peek them open, squinting through the pain across the room, to where the Red Giant had been.

And it was important to note that that was past tense.

There was no Red Giant there now.

There was just Ravus, face down on the floor.

Noctis didn’t have the strength to go and check on him. He just curled tighter and whimpered.

* * *

Prompto had been running as fast as he could already, and so had Luna. He wasn’t sure where either of them found the extra speed that they put into their steps after they heard Noctis scream not once, but  _ twice. _ They’d been hearing crashing and thumping for the last several minutes anyway, twisting their way through the halls and avoiding as many fights as they could on their way back to the ballroom, but the screams…

Yeah.

He wasn’t sure where either of them found that extra speed, but they found it.

Luna ditched her heels three hallways ago.

She’d ripped the side of her dress and her hair was falling down around her face and she was panting and red and Prompto knew he didn’t look any better. They skidded, honestly  _ skidded _ into the ballroom. And he wasn’t sure what to expect, because by all means Noctis screaming just meant he’d been hit, right?

Ravus laying, unharmed it seemed, in the middle of the ballroom was  _ not _ on his list of expectations.

“Ravus!” Luna yelled, taking off across the rubble-strewn floor without a care for her own bare feet, and Prompto wanted to go with her, but…

Where was Noctis?

He found him after a half-jog behind a few pieces of ruined pillars, curled in on himself but at least sitting up, head between his knees and arms covering his head. Just sitting in the shadows there.

“Noct?” He asked, approaching, “You okay?”

He reached out to touch him, maybe soothe him as much as he could, and even though there was no way Noct could see him reaching he immediately jerked away from him. Scrambled to back away.

“Don’t,” He said, voice breaking, “Don’t touch me, please.”

Prompto furrowed his brows. Approached but stayed a distance away.

“Noct,” He started, “Noct, what  _ happened?” _

And Noctis outright sobbed in reply. Rocked slightly where he was sitting.

“I took it,” He croaked, and Prompto saw black spilling down his cheeks with a pit starting to form in his gut at the sight and the words,  _ “I took it.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that's the end, folks!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this installment of the series and I promise there will be a second part later this year. It will be called "Sing To Me", as I've mentioned. As of right now, I'm planning on releasing it in mid-late September in order to give myself time to a) finish other projects before starting a new one and b) actually get some of it written in advance
> 
> The one question I'm going to answer right off the bat is that yes! Ravus is okay!! I promise he's okay. I couldn't kill him ;w; Not after how they treated him in canon lol
> 
> See you in September! Remember to subscribe to the series if you want to know as soon as the next part starts being posted. Thanks for reading!!


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